


The Shouting Of Islands

by bloodreddahlia



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Attempted Sexual Assault, F/M, Past Sexual Abuse, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-15 07:34:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 59
Words: 88,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8047885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodreddahlia/pseuds/bloodreddahlia
Summary: “We’re all islands shouting lies across seas of misunderstanding”Rudyard Kipling, 'The Light That Failed'.Sansa Stark is a young woman who has suffered years of abuse at the hands of older men. Changing her name to Alayne Stone she flees to King's Landing where she longs for a fresh start. One fateful night her life is saved by the stern and prideful Stannis Baratheon. Will their growing relationship survive her past traumas, the increasingly demanding attentions of her uncle and the threat of her psychopathic fiancé? Or will fate tear them apart forever?





	1. Chapter 1

Sansa bit at her bottom lip nervously as she perched at the bar, her forefinger tapping absently on the stem of her nearly empty wine glass. Jeyne and Gilly were supposed to have met her well over an hour ago but as she scanned the interior of the club for what felt like the millionth time her heart sank as she resigned herself to the fact they probably weren’t coming.  
“Hey beautiful. What are you doing here all on your own? Would you like some company? Can I buy you a drink?”  
Sansa sighed and barely had the energy to bring her eyes up to face the fifth man who had tried to proposition her that night. However, her innate politeness prevented her from ignoring him completely. She faced him and smiled as sweetly as she could manage.  
“No thank you. You are very kind but I’m waiting for friends.”  
Luckily unlike the other four before him who were annoyingly persistent, this one had more manners and although disappointed tried to hide it with a quick smirk and a brusque “Enjoy your night then” before honing in on his next target sitting at the other end of the bar.

 

Just as she was contemplating calling her friends, Sansa’s phone which was sitting next to the wine glass, rang out. Reaching out for it she noticed Jeyne’s number on the display and hurriedly accepted the call.  
“Jeyne, I was about to ring you. Where on earth are you?” she asked trying not to sound as annoyed and frustrated as she was.  
“God, I’m so sorry Alayne. I should have rung earlier but we thought we would be back on the road by now. Gilly’s bloody car broke down; we waited forever for roadside assistance but they can’t get it started. I knew we should have taken mine.”  
Sansa could hear some muffled protestations from the car’s owner in the background and smiled. Jeyne was always teasing Gilly about her ageing car that she insisted on calling a classic but which could be more accurately described as a complete bomb.  
“We can still call a cab and meet you but it could be a while being a Saturday night and we’re still about half an hour away.”

 

Sansa sighed loudly in disappointment immediately realising their fun night out had been scuttled.  
“Don’t be sorry. It can’t be helped. But making your way here now – that’s such a hassle for you guys and it is starting to get late already. And then you have to cab it back home too. It’s not really worth it. Maybe we should just try for another night?”  
She heard a resigned sigh from the other end of the line.  
“Yeah. Look it might be best. I feel terrible with you alone there in the club though. Oh shit! How are you going to get home? We were supposed to drop you off.”  
Sansa looked at her watch and frowned as she quickly stood, plucking her jacket from the back of her chair and picking up her clutch from the table.  
“Can’t be bothered waiting for a cab – it’ll take forever. If I leave now and I hurry I can make it to the bus stop for the last bus of the night. But I have to leave this minute. Listen, you two take care and I’ll ring you tomorrow. Maybe we can go for a coffee later in the week?”  
“That sounds great, Alayne. Thanks for being so understanding.”  
“No problem. Have a good night and say goodnight to Gilly for me.”  
“Will do. Good night sweet.”

Sansa took a moment to pull on her jacket knowing that it would be freezing outside. The air had already started to chill when she left home earlier in the night to catch the bus and the breeze had already freshened by the time she reached the club. She had not anticipated a late night foray into the streets so had dressed in the expectation of a nice warm air conditioned ride home and was pitifully unprepared for the conditions outside. She knew the light jacket would do little to shield her from the elements especially as she wore only a short tight strapped black dress exposing ample cleavage and long legs, her feet exposed in strappy high heeled sandals. Bracing herself for the cold she stepped out of the club and into the street wrapping her arms around herself for added warmth.

 

The wind had picked up considerably and she was grateful that she had worn her long red hair back in a sleek pony tail or it would have been whipping around her face in a frenzy. Shivering, she hugged her clutch against her stomach and strode swiftly down the street towards the bus stop which was about five minutes away. She cursed her natural clumsiness as she stumbled occasionally in her high heels when they met cracks in the pavement. 

 

Once she had walked a couple of blocks away from the club the lighting became dimmer, obscured by some large poplar trees that grew along the side of the road. Suddenly she heard rapid footfalls closing the distance behind her and sensed an ominous presence before a large hand clamped around her mouth and a strong arm wrapped around her waist pulling her into an adjacent alleyway. Kicking and flailing in terror she screamed against her assailant’s hand, desperately trying to escape his grasp but he was large and powerful as he moved her further down the dead-end alleyway. Her stomach lurched as she noticed two more men approaching.

 

The man who held her pushed her up against a brick wall and brought his body flush against hers pinning her tight. She spied a flash of something metallic and froze as he pressed the blade of a knife against her throat; tears were now streaming from her eyes, her breathing ragged. His face was only inches from hers, his eyes dark and filled with lust and violence.  
“Don’t scream. Don’t make a sound,” he warned as he slowly removed his hand from her mouth and stepped away from her slightly keeping the knife against her skin.  
“Take off your jacket.”  
Sansa had begun to tremble so violently that she could barely stand. Terrifying in itself, this experience was bringing back vivid memories of past traumas that threatened to undo her completely.  
“I said, take off your jacket. I don’t like repeating myself,” he snarled as he pressed the flat of the knife’s blade a little more firmly against her skin. 

 

Her whole frame wracked with tremors and sobbing hysterically Sansa removed her jacket and dropped it to the ground. She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered, her eyes wide with fear. Suddenly her attacker grabbed at the straps of her dress and tore them downwards ripping her dress and exposing her strapless bra. She shrieked as he turned her around and shoved her roughly in the direction of the other two men. One grabbed at her arms and the other pulled at her legs trying to bring her down to the ground. She screamed and struggled and kicked as hard as she could because she knew from experience that once she was down she would be completely defenceless. She fought valiantly but in the end they succeeded in subduing her. She heaved and bucked as the men loomed over her, pinning her to the ground.

 

“Hey! Stop. Get the fuck off her!”  
Suddenly the muggers froze and looked back up the alleyway towards the main street. Sansa followed their gaze and saw two men running rapidly towards them.  
“Please help me,” she wailed.  
The two men restraining her released her and stood to face their challengers along with the man who had first grabbed her. She scrambled to her feet and quickly moved backwards until her back hit the brick wall at the end of the alleyway, cowering in fear. A scuffle broke out and Sansa prayed that her saviours would prevail; the consequences of their defeat were too horrible to contemplate. Everything was a flurry of limbs and terrible smacking sounds of fists meeting flesh and bone. To her dismay one of her rescuers was down and unmoving but not before inflicting quite a bit of damage on two of the assailants. His partner fought on doggedly and was clearly gaining the upper hand.  
“Come on. Let’s get out of here,” one of her attackers yelled sensing that the tide had not turned in their favour. The men hobbled away clutching at various parts of their anatomy hurling obscenities and wincing in pain.

 

Sansa slipped to the ground clutching the remnants of her dress over her chest and weeping as the adrenalin that had pumped through her system drained, leaving her traumatised body exhausted. She watched her rescuer, a middle aged man of average height and build with a greying moustache and beard, as he retrieved her jacket and slowly approached her. He knelt down in front of her and looked at her with concern. His eyes were kind and she sensed immediately that she could trust him.  
“Are you alright, Miss? Did they hurt you?”  
Sansa whimpered and shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. The man handed her the jacket which she shrugged on gratefully.  
“Thank you,” she stammered eventually.  
He manipulated his jaw with one hand and winced.  
“Are you alright too?” Sansa enquired worriedly.  
“I’ll live,” he reassured her with a small smile. 

 

He glanced away from her and straightened. Suddenly Sansa remembered the other man who had come to her rescue and looked over in the direction in which he had fallen. He still lay motionless.  
“Oh no,” she exclaimed. “Your friend. He’s hurt. This is my fault,” she cried out.  
The man walked quickly over to his fallen comrade and knelt down to examine him. Sansa approached tentatively on shaking legs.

 

The injured man was younger - perhaps mid to late thirties - taller, slimmer and more muscled than his friend with thick dark hair that receded slightly. His features were strong and patrician, with a chiselled jaw and high cheekbones; his nose was aqualine and his lips thin. She guessed that his face had the potential to be somewhat intimidating but in his unconscious state it was relaxed and unlined and far from unattractive. It spoke of nobility and pride. The left side of his jaw was reddened and had begun to swell, his bottom lip was split and blood trickled down his chin and onto the collar of his clearly expensive white business shirt. Of more concern was a large lump at the back of his head, presumably from when he had collapsed on to the cobblestones.  
“Is he going to be alright?” she sniffled.  
“I don’t know. He’s got a thick stubborn head but injuries like this can be bad news.”  
With trembling hands Sansa withdrew her phone from her jacket pocket and called for an ambulance. The bearded man shot her a grateful look. 

 

As they waited for the ambulance the injured man groaned and began to stir.  
“Oh thank God,” Sansa whispered as she knelt down beside him and gently stroked the sleeve of his suit jacket.  
He briefly opened his eyes and Sansa was immediately mesmerised. They were startlingly deep blue and intense even in their slightly unfocussed state. She gave him a small smile but was dismayed when he frowned back at her and his mouth turned downwards in a definite scowl. He immediately closed his eyes again and seemed to fall into a deep slumber. Sansa was surprised to hear a small chuckle from the bearded man and could not fathom such a reaction in the context.  
“Don’t worry, my dear. He looks at everyone like that. I wouldn’t take it personally. Now I know he’s going to be just fine. Back to his old self right away,” he grinned.


	2. Chapter 2

“I don’t know how I am ever going to thank you both. I don’t want to think about what would have happened if…” she stammered.  
“You don’t have to thank me, us. It’s only what any decent person would do in the circumstances,” he replied modestly.  
“Well, I don’t agree. In this city some people would just look the other way and not get involved. You put yourself in harm’s way and I’m so grateful. May I know your names?”  
“My name is Davos, Davos Seaworth and Prince Charming here is Stannis Baratheon.”  
For some reason the Baratheon name rang a vague bell but she couldn’t quite place it.  
“And now I am at a disadvantage, Miss?”  
“Miss Stone. Alayne,” she stated, regretting that she could not give this man her real name. She felt she owed him that much but it was far too risky.

 

While speaking, they had both been aware of the scream of the ambulance’s siren gradually approaching their location. Soon enough Stannis had been loaded into the vehicle and was on his way to Kings Landing General Hospital.   
“Where is your car Alayne?”  
“I don’t have a car. I was on my way to the bus but I’m afraid I’ve missed it now and that was the last one for the night. I’ll have to call a cab, I guess. If I had done that in the first place this never would have happened and your friend would never have been hurt,” she observed miserably.  
“Don’t blame yourself. You couldn’t have known this would happen. There is no way I’m leaving you here to wait for a cab. I will drive you home and then I’ll make my way to the hospital.”  
Sansa considered his offer but knew that she could not just go home and forget about the man who had been injured on her account.  
“Please Davos. I’m sorry to be a pest but I wonder if I could ask you to take me with you to the hospital. I want to make sure he’s going to be okay and I want to say thank you. I’ll catch a cab home from there.” 

 

Davos glanced speculatively at her but did not reply immediately. Eventually he spoke but it was apparent that he was choosing his words very carefully.  
“Alayne, please do not in any way take this personally but I think it might be better if you didn’t come to the hospital.”  
“But why?” she asked, somewhat perplexed.  
“I have worked for Stannis for many years, have been his best friend for many years. I know that man better than I know myself. He is a good man, loyal to a fault, generous with those he cares about and he can be kind in his own way. But he is not an easy man and rarely gives in to sentimentality. I fear that he may not react well to your gratitude, as well intentioned as it is. He would probably be quite uncomfortable with it, if I’m to be honest.”

 

Sansa looked at Davos sadly.  
“I don’t want to upset him Davos so if you think it would be best, then of course, I won’t go.”  
Davos smiled at her and shook his head slightly.  
“It’s not him getting upset I’m worried about. I think you have been through enough for one night. I don’t know that being on the receiving end of Stannis Baratheon’s famous scowls or stern words would be a good thing for you right now.”  
Sansa shivered slightly as she recalled the one brief but disconcerting glower that Stannis had subjected her to before he lost consciousness, and taking stock of her own fragility had to begrudgingly agree with the man’s assessment. Davos took hold of her elbow lightly and walked her on to the main road and towards a black Bentley parked in a meter spot.   
“Come on. I’ll take you home. If you give me your phone number I’ll ring you and let you know once I have some information about his condition.”  
“Thank you Davos I would really appreciate that.”

 

About an hour and a half, two glasses of wine and a hot shower later Sansa sat in her lounge room watching, but at the same time, not watching television. She was completely wired, her brain a whirl of confusing thoughts and impressions. No matter how much she tried to forget about Stannis Baratheon, the image of his strong toned body in his dark fitted business suit and stern but handsome features would not leave her. The thought that he could be seriously or permanently injured or could even die from a hematoma distressed her greatly. She knew she shouldn’t have turned on the computer when she arrived home and consulted Doctor Google about his type of injury; it just made her fret even more. 

 

Davos had provided quite a bit of information about her saviour on their trip to her apartment and this had only served to fuel her curiosity further. Stannis was second in charge at Baratheon Enterprises; his brother Robert was the CEO. She now realised where she had heard the name before. She’d only been in King’s Landing a month but even in that short time Stannis and Robert were frequently in the media; Robert more so in the society and gossip pages due to his reputation as a dilettante and philanderer, Stannis in the financial section due to his prominence in the business sector. 

She had never seen an actual picture of Stannis before tonight but she recalled Robert being a generously proportioned stout man with a florid complexion and a somewhat wild greying beard – he appeared to enjoy excess perhaps a little more than was good for him. She vaguely recalled there was a third brother but Davos had not mentioned him and his name escaped her. With a diverse portfolio Baratheon Enterprises was one of the most powerful companies in Westeros and the Baratheon’s were extremely wealthy. Not that this impressed Sansa as she was independently wealthy herself through inheritance, a fact that she intended to obscure by accepting inconspicuous jobs during her stay in King’s Landing. 

Sansa wished that she had not taken Davos’s advice and had gone to see Stannis in the hospital if only for a last chance to look at him and to hear his voice, for of course, he had never spoken a word to her. Apart from her obvious gratitude she had no idea why it mattered so much to her and why he seemed to affect her so strongly. 

 

Suddenly her phone rang – an unrecognised number.  
“Hello. This is Alayne.”  
“Hello Alayne. This is Davos.”  
“Oh hi, Davos.”   
She worried her bottom lip with her teeth and prayed that Stannis’s condition had not deteriorated.  
“I hope I didn’t wake you. Sorry for ringing so late.”  
“No, not at all. I couldn’t sleep. Thanks for ringing.”  
“I just wanted to put your mind at rest. He’s going to be fine. He has a slight concussion so they’re keeping him in overnight for observation. They’re planning to release him in the afternoon.”  
Sansa exhaled in relief and came to her decision.   
“I am so glad Davos. I’ve been so worried about him. Thank you for letting me know. I’ve decided I’m going to visit him tomorrow morning.”

 

There was silence at the other end of the line for a moment until Davos replied a little dubiously.  
“Alright. You do what you think is best. He is in a completely foul mood tonight so it’s a good thing you didn’t come. Hopefully he will have calmed down a bit by tomorrow. But no promises. I’ll be here around 10am so I can meet you then – for moral support and to smooth the way?”  
Alayne agreed while Davos proceeded to give her the details of the ward that Stannis was staying in before wishing her a good night.  
“Good night Davos. And thanks again.”  
Sansa terminated the call and switched off the television before moving towards the bedroom. Flinging herself onto the bed and crushing a spare pillow against her chest she fell into a troubled sleep, her last memory being of Stannis Baratheon’s hypnotic deep blue eyes searing into her.


	3. Chapter 3

“Mr Clegane, Mr Clegane,” she yelled as she stood on tippy toes to peer over her neighbour’s fence.  
She heard a grunt through his open kitchen window and suddenly he appeared, his long dark hair covering one side of his face as it always did. The side that Mommy had told her not to stare at. She tried not to stare but it was hard.  
“You’re up early little bird,” he rasped.  
“Because it’s my Name Day today. I’m eight you know.”  
“Yes, I know,” he replied.  
“Robb and Jon and Rickon and Bran and Arya - we’re all going to the beach for a picnic. Do you want to come too?”  
The man harrumphed – he never laughed out loud like her Daddy did but that, she knew, was as close as he got to a laugh. She liked it when he made that noise. It felt nice.  
“I think your mother and father might have something to say about that.”  
“Awww. But you’re my friend. Mommy said that I could invite some friends. Margaery’s coming.”

 

He stared at her for some time but didn’t speak. All of a sudden he disappeared from the window. She thought she had made him angry but she couldn’t think why. In time his back door opened and he walked slowly towards the fence, his hands behind his back.   
“Pick a hand, little bird.”  
Sansa jumped up and down and squealed with excitement.   
“That one,” she stated firmly, pointing to the right.  
The side of his mouth that wasn’t all messy and red and hard looking quirked up as he extended his big hand over the fence. In it was a small cardboard box from Mrs Stonewell’s Bakery down at the shopping mall. She gasped and extended both hands to grab at the box.  
“Mr Clegane, lemon cake!!” she cried excitedly. She knew what was in the box because he was always buying her little lemon cakes. Even when it wasn’t her Name Day. She absolutely loved, loved, loved lemon cakes. Daddy didn’t like Mr Clegane buying her lemon cakes but Mommy told him it was okay; Mr Clegane is lonely and he just likes to see her smile. So she smiled at him. A big toothy smile.  
“Thank you very much Mr Clegane,” she said politely.

 

“You’re welcome. Don’t you want what’s in the other hand?” he asked. She noticed that he still had his other hand behind his back.  
“Yes,” she blurted. “I mean yes, please,” she nodded her head vigorously. Mommy and Daddy told her to always mind her manners. Mommy said something about manners being a shield but she didn’t know what that meant. But when she was a good girl and polite everyone liked her. She wanted everyone to like her. It was nice.  
His hand came across the fence again and in it was a parcel all wrapped up in pretty pink paper with a big bow.  
Sansa gasped, her eyes wide her mouth shaped into a little ‘o’.   
He watched her closely as she carefully took it from his hand. The present felt all squishy and soft inside. His eyes were shining. She looked up at him to ask permission.  
“Go on then, open it,” he encouraged.  
She untied the bow and put it in the pocket of her dress so she could tie her hair up with it later. She unwrapped the parcel ever so carefully so she didn’t rip the pretty pink paper.

She gasped loudly.  
“A puppy. You got me a puppy,” she whispered as she ran her fingers through the toy’s soft fur. She looked up at him and gave him her biggest ever smile. It hurt her cheeks.  
“It’s a wolf, little bird.”  
She scrunched up her face in concentration.  
“You mean like the one in the story book that Daddy reads me at night. Little Red Riding Hood. But that one’s all mean and everything. This puppy is cute and little,” she reasoned.  
“That’s because he’s not grown yet. He is still a pup. When he grows he will change. He will be strong and fierce like the wolf in your storybook.”  
“It’s not a boy, silly. It’s a girl,” she corrected him.   
Was that rude? She hoped she hadn’t been rude. He made that funny noise in the back of his throat again – good he’s not mad.  
“And she’s never going to grow up and be mean like that other one. Never,” she declared as she hugged the doggy tightly to her chest.  
“You’ll have to give her a name. Can’t have a dog without a name,” he asserted.  
“I’m going to call her….Lady.”  
“A Lady for a proper little lady,” he said, his voice all soft and whispery. He didn’t usually sound like that.

 

“Thank you for the lemon cake and the puppy, Mr Clegane. I can’t say thank you properly with the fence here,” she said straining up on her toes. His face was very close. The messy side of his face.  
He moved away and his eyes went all funny.   
“You already said thank you, little bird.”  
“But when Uncle Petyr gives me a present he likes lots of kisses here,” she said pointing to her mouth. “Do you like kisses too?”  
He made a growly sound in his throat, just like a big bad wolf and his hands were making fists. His mouth was all angry. Oh no! She had made him mad.

 

“Sansa, are you bothering Mr Clegane?”  
Sansa turned around quickly and Mommy was standing there, her hands on her hips. She looked angry, no not angry. Just… she didn’t know. He was wiping the back of his neck really hard and he wasn’t angry anymore. Just… she didn’t know.  
“She’s not bothering me Mrs Stark. She never bothers me,” he replied.  
“I’ve heard her singing loudly outside early in the mornings Mr Clegane. If it’s disturbing you I’ll tell her to stop.”  
“No!” he said. His voice got a bit loud. Mommy went all stiff and strange.  
“That is to say, I like the singing. It is refreshing to hear a kid that isn’t screaming and throwing tantrums all over the place.”  
“I wouldn’t do that!” she cried. “That’s just rude.”  
He made that grunty funny sound again and Mommy just laughed.  
“Come on sweetheart, we have to get ready. Your Uncle Petyr and Aunt Lysa will be here soon.”  
His eyes went all funny again. All black.  
“Mommy look what Mr Clegane gave me,” she said as she held out her hands the box containing the lemon cake in one and Lady in the other.   
And look,” she said as she whipped the pretty pink ribbon from her pocket. “Can you help me put it in my hair?”  
“Sure honey. Come inside now. Say goodbye to Mr Clegane.”  
“Bye Mr Clegane. And thank you again.”  
“Goodbye little bird.”


	4. Chapter 4

Sansa rounded a bend in the corridor that led towards the hospital ward that Davos had indicated the previous night would contain the recovering Stannis. After a night filled with fitful dreams she had awoken in the morning feeling quite fragile and had gradually worked herself into a highly agitated state as she tried to compose a thank you speech to Stannis in her head. She’d been thinking about it for hours but disconcertingly the words would not come to her. In addition to her anxiety she felt a strange flutter of excitement in her stomach at the thought of coming face to face with the man who had helped save her. She was beginning to panic and rue her decision to be there but before she had a chance to turn and run the other way, a familiar voice rang out.  
“Alayne, over here.”  
Sansa turned in the direction of the voice to spy Davos who was standing in a corner of the packed waiting room with an attractive woman perhaps in her mid to late thirties and a boy around five or six, at a guess. Could this possibly be Stannis’s wife? And the boy his son? She felt unaccountably dismayed by the idea. 

“Hi Davos,” she smiled timidly.  
“Alayne, this is my wife, Marya and my son, Stannis. He’s named after the big guy in the next room.”  
Sansa breathed a sigh of relief and then admonished herself. Why should she care that this was Davos’s family and not Stannis’s?  
“Pleased to meet you Alayne. Davos told me all about you. I’m so sorry about what you went through last night,” Marya said, shaking Sansa’s hand and looking at her kindly.  
“If I can do anything to help; if you need someone to talk to, then please….”  
“I’m happy to meet you too Marya and that’s very kind of you. But I think I’ll be okay. Hello Stannis,” she said, looking down at the little boy.  
He smiled back and looked downwards a little shyly before whispering a polite and small “hello”.  
Davos reached over to muss the boy’s hair fondly.

 

“I wish I could say that Stannis was in a good mood today but I can’t. He is in a better mood than last night but that’s not saying much. Gods that man is a lousy patient. Several of the nurses have complained about him to me and have all but threatened to go on strike. They all deserve significant pay rises,” japed Davos.  
Sansa giggled out of mirth but also nervousness.  
“Can I see him now?”  
“Yes of course. Come on. I’ll introduce you.”  
Sansa steeled herself as Davos swung the door to the ward open and walked her towards a bed in the corner of the room. Sansa could feel her knees quaking as she fidgeted with a lock of her hair. She could not see his face as it was obscured by the copy of Kings Landing Tribute that he was engrossed in; he clearly had not heard them approach.  
“Stannis. You have a visitor.”  
Stannis lowered his newspaper with a grunt obviously put out by the disturbance. He glared at her and shot a slightly confused look at Davos before returning his eyes to stare fixedly at her. He did not utter a word.

 

Sansa wished that the floor would open up and swallow her. Sensing her discomfiture and clearly knowing that Stannis would not be the first to make a move Davos came to the rescue.  
“This is Alayne Stone, Stannis. This is the lovely young lady who got into that spot of bother last night. Alayne, this is Stannis Baratheon.”  
Stannis scowled, his response cold and clipped.  
“Miss Stone.”  
Despite the terse delivery, his voice was deep and sonorous; Sansa found it very alluring despite its harshness. She swallowed hard before replying, willing her voice to be steady.  
“I’m happy to meet you properly at last Mr Baratheon,” she stated rather more tremulously than she had hoped.  
His only reply was a small grunt; the scowl remained firmly in place. Davos and Stannis exchanged glances and then the older man turned to regard her.  
“I’ll leave you two to talk then.”  
He turned back to Stannis.  
“Remember what we spoke about earlier this morning, Stannis,” he stated seriously.  
There was no reply from Stannis other than a slight nod of annoyance.

 

Once Davos had exited Sansa stood in front of him shifting her weight from foot to foot. Stannis did not say a word, only continued to stare at her. Taking a deep breath she spoke.  
“May I?” she asked, indicating the chair beside his bed.  
“If you wish,” he answered in a slightly irritated tone.  
At that point Sansa almost turned and walked away. Despite her nervousness his frosty attitude was starting to anger and hurt her. She could not understand why he was treating her so coldly. Once she had settled, Stannis crossed his arms and looked at her with a frustrated expression.  
“Why are you here Miss Stone? What can I do for you?”  
Wasn’t that completely obvious, she thought. What possible reason could she have for being here other than gratitude and concern for his welfare?  
“I – I’m happy to see that you are alright. I was so worried about you. I’m so sorry you got hurt. I wanted to thank you for helping me. I can never repay you for what you did,” she blurted.  
In gratitude she reached out to touch his arm. He tensed as though he had been electrocuted and narrowed his eyes at her. She promptly removed her hand feeling a hot flush suffuse her cheeks. She felt thoroughly humiliated by his rejection; that one glance and his physical reaction had chastised her and left her feeling small and childish.

Stannis heaved a big sigh and relaxed the lines of his mouth before replying. He was ever so slightly less intimidating but his demeanour remained uninviting, his voice brusque.  
“I do not require thanks Miss Stone. You should not have troubled yourself to come. It was completely unnecessary; as you can see I am perfectly fine and I am sure that Davos relayed that information to you last night. I am of course happy to see that you came to no harm despite your extraordinary lack of judgement,” he said rather harshly.  
Sansa stared at him incredulously, her anger now winning out over her embarrassment.  
“What do you mean, ‘my extraordinary lack of judgement’?”  
“Well you must admit that it was very reckless of you to gallivant around wearing next to nothing in a rough neighbourhood alone at that time of night.”

 

Sansa was now fuming. Having been on the receiving end of chauvinistic behaviour of the most extreme and sometimes violent kind throughout her teens and into adulthood she was somewhat immune to it but this man’s attitude infuriated her. Trying desperately to control the trembling anger in her voice so as not to disturb the other patients in the ward she rose from the chair and glared at him.  
“You better not be suggesting that I somehow brought this upon myself because of the way I was dressed. And I should be able to walk anywhere I damn well please any time I want without having to worry about some Troglodytes raping me,” she hissed.  
He seemed somewhat taken aback by her spirited response but he appeared far from contrite, his facial expression stony in the face of her wrath.  
“I do not disagree that you should be able to live your life however you want without fear of harm. That is a given. In an ideal world that’s what should happen but it’s a very naïve attitude. Particularly in that quarter of King’s Landing. Anyone with sense would avoid the kind of situation you put yourself and myself and Mr Seaworth in last night. The whole incident was completely avoidable. What the hell were you thinking?”

 

Sansa bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from yelling out in reply or slapping that bloody scowl right off his damned face. Her voice trembled with anger. She knew she did not really owe him an explanation but felt compelled to give it anyway.  
“For one thing Mr Baratheon, I am new to King’s Landing. I am not yet fully aware of all the dangers here. I have only ever been in the area once during the day and of course it looked completely innocuous then. Secondly, I had not planned on walking anywhere last night. I was stranded. My friends could not meet me at the club and drop me home afterwards as planned. The waiting time for a cab would have been ridiculous so I tried to catch a bus.”

“Perhaps, in retrospect, it would have been worth exercising some patience and waiting for the cab don’t you think?” he asked rather smugly.  
Sansa huffed in annoyance knowing that he had a point and hating him for it. She had come to the same conclusion herself and it grated with her. She responded with a riposte that she thought might give him pause.  
“Perhaps I was getting sick of men ogling me and trying to get into my pants every five seconds while I was waiting in the club all on my own,” she replied, her voice shaking.  
He did not reply and for one second she thought she detected a softening in his eyes but she could not be sure. 

 

To her dismay all of her pent up hurt and frustration and the traumatic events of the previous night welled within her and tears threatened. She desperately tried to regain control; the last thing she wanted to do was cry in front of him. Despite her best efforts a tear escaped trickling down her cheek. She brushed at it angrily, felt herself blush beetroot red and could not meet his eyes. She needed to get away from him before she completely lost it.  
“Once again, I’m sorry. I never wanted you to get hurt. Thank you for what you did. I hope you are fully recovered soon. Goodbye.”  
Her voice finished on little more than a trembling whisper as she struggled to maintain her composure. She turned from him and walked swiftly towards the door before she could debase herself in front of him any further.

 

“Miss Stone,” he called out, but she could no longer bear to be in the same room with him.  
“Miss Stone, don’t leave,” he repeated a little louder.  
She stopped in her tracks but she did not have the strength to turn around and meet his eyes let alone return to his side. His words did not sound like an entreaty or a plea, more like an order, and it jarred her already frayed nerves. She was relieved that her back was turned from him as she could no longer hold back the tears. She strode swiftly out the door and past the Seaworth family who looked at her with stunned expressions. Davos held his hand out to her but she shook her head at him and kept walking. As she turned the corner she heard a frustrated “Damn that man, I told him to go easy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm. That went well then didn't it? :)  
> Next up a Stannis POV and a bit of an insight into what might be making him into such a Megagrump.  
> Thanks for the Kudos and comments so far. Have been enjoying the interaction with you guys.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stannis POV. Now we find out a bit about what is going on in that grumpy head of his. And Davos has a few words to say.

He did not know what he had been expecting but whatever it was, she was most certainly not it. On the night of the brawl it had been too dark to make out the girl’s features properly and everything had happened so fast. He never got a really good look at her before he took a heavy blow to his jaw and lost consciousness. He vaguely remembered milky white skin and flaming red hair and eyes as blue as the sky but it was a nebulous and indistinct memory lacking in any concrete detail.

 

Davos had of course told him as much as he could, warning him that she was intending to visit him in the morning. Apparently she was extraordinarily beautiful and appeared very sensitive and kind. She had expressed nothing but remorse for his and Davos’s experience blaming herself continually for his hospitalisation. And so she should, as it was entirely her doing, he reasoned. Davos claimed that during their conversation in the car on the way to her apartment she seemed mature and intelligent but only a complete fool would act as she had and make the decisions she had made to expose herself to such danger. He was angry but he was also humiliated that she had seen him bested by a common street hood and that she would now witness him at his weakest, bruised and battered like some kind of 98 pound weakling in a damned undignified hospital gown. Why the hell did she have to come here; hadn’t she done enough already?

 

When he had lowered his newspaper and laid his eyes on Alayne Stone for the first time to say he was stunned was a complete understatement. Having entirely lost the power of speech all he could do was stare. Even Davos’s glowing description had not done her justice. She was by far the most beautiful young woman he had ever seen because her beauty seemed entirely natural and effortless. She was dressed much more conservatively than she had been on that fateful night but the black tailored slacks and sky blue long sleeved silk blouse she wore only served to further accentuate her gentle curves and long lithe limbs. Her skin was completely unblemished porcelain apart from a slight pink blush at her cheeks; her hair cascaded in soft thick red waves contrasting with her startling azure eyes. He could tell in the unforgiving fluorescence of the hospital lighting that she did not wear a lick of makeup but she was all the more perfect for it. In fact she was as close to perfection as he had ever encountered. The only thing that marred it was a slight tension and tiredness he detected around her eyes. 

 

He could not deny that he was instantly attracted to her physically but he had convinced himself that the vulnerability she displayed in front of him was some sort of manipulation. He knew that Davos had given her his background. She would now know he was a man of considerable means. Being a wealthy man he was accustomed to avaricious women attempting to pull the wool over his eyes and defended himself strongly against it by any means necessary. When she had touched him needlessly and when she had been so quick to anger from his words he felt vindicated in his assessment of her until, that is, she had started to cry. 

 

He was not a green youth and he prided himself on being an excellent judge of character. Crying, of course was the ultimate manipulation, a powerful feminine wile. But he had watched her closely as she had spoken of her experience with men in the club and he had detected a troubled and pained look in her eyes that spoke of troubling half-buried memories. When she had bid him goodbye her misery and hurt appeared real, not feigned. Not unless she was a consummate actress. But somehow he did not think so: she had given him pause then. In an attempt at conciliation he had given her every opportunity to return to him but she had merely continued on her way. It confounded him. Why would she be so upset at his treatment of her? He was nothing to her. Perhaps it was only the guilt of having caused his injuries and her trauma that had made her overly emotional. He knew now that he should have heeded Davos’s words of caution. 

 

“For the love of all that is holy, go easy on her Stannis. I know you’re angry right now but you have to remember she’s young and she’s gone through something very traumatic. She really does seem to care that you got hurt and she only wants to make sure you’re okay and express her gratitude. Let her do it and be gracious about it.”

 

He realised now that despite lingering misgivings he absolutely did not want this to be the last time he encountered Alayne Stone. 

All of a sudden Davos materialised in front of him eyes glaring, arms crossed.  
“What?”  
“Are you happy with yourself? Just what the fuck did you say to her? She was destroyed when she left here. I tried to follow her but she must have literally sprinted out of the building.”  
Stannis sighed and rubbed his fingers through his hair roughly.  
“I know. I know. I’m an arsehole. I should have listened to you. She didn’t deserve what I said to her. I should have been more sensitive.”  
“For once I agree with you. You are an arsehole. A big one. For fuck’s sake, she was nearly raped last night Stannis. Surely you have to have some inkling of what she must have gone through. And she genuinely cared about what happened to you; why I will never know.”  
“I’m afraid that might have been the problem. I really have no idea why she cared either. I don’t know why she got so upset. It seemed a little extreme.”

 

One of Davos’s eyebrows quirked. Stannis knew that look well.  
“What? Spit it out,” he grunted in annoyance.  
“Do you really not see it?” he asked with a small smirk.  
“Stop being obscure and just come out with it,” he snarled in response.  
“The young lady is attracted to you Stannis. It’s as plain as the nose on your face.”  
Stannis snorted in derision but secretly wished that it might be true.  
“Don’t be absurd Davos. She doesn’t know me from a bar of soap. What on earth could she possibly be attracted to? Not my looks, that’s for sure. And she’s very young. I must be a good 15 years older than her. She must be of legal age as she was at a club, but still. She’s certainly not attracted to my magnetic personality. That only leaves one thing.”  
“Not this shit again. Fuck you’re hard work Baratheon,” Davos replied with a frustrated huff.  
“I’m not a woman, obviously, but you’re hardly an ogre. But you’re right, your manners could use some definite work. I think you’re wrong about her. She really does not strike me as a gold digger – unlike that hideous Melisandre creature.”  
Stannis grimaced at the memory of one of his less successful relationships that had left him shattered and with little to no faith in the female species. Davos continued.  
“She wears nice clothes and her shoes and accessories seem expensive. Her apartment was in a good neighbourhood in a modern building. What little I saw of the inside when she opened her door looked quite impressive if a little austere for a young woman. I don’t think she’s down on her luck.”

 

Stannis silently blessed Davos for his innate observation skills and considered everything that his friend had told him, coming to a decision.  
“You will give me her address. I need to go and see her and apologise. I can’t leave it like this. It wouldn’t be right. I’ll apologise then we’ll go our separate ways and never have to think on it again.”  
Davos gave him another look that he was more than a little familiar with that said ‘yeah, sure. Whatever you say.’ He hated that look.  
“I can’t just give you the address, Stannis. It wouldn’t be right. I don’t think she would appreciate you just lobbing up unannounced. It’s an invasion of her privacy and besides she’s going to be pretty pissed off with you.”  
“Okay fine. Give me her phone number then.”  
“I can’t do that either without her permission. Look, I’ll ring her and let her know you want to see her. I’ll give her your phone number if you like and leave the ball in her court.”  
Stannis sighed in defeat.  
“Alright. You’re right. Although I think there is a snowball’s chance in hell she’ll ring me. She probably hates me right now.”  
Davos gave him a look that said ‘could you blame her’.  
His mouth was a little bit but not much more diplomatic.  
“Yep, probably. But I’ll try for some damage control anyway” he said, sounding somewhat unconvinced.


	6. Chapter 6

For the first time in months Sansa was excited. Her first shift at her new waitressing job at a high end restaurant was due to start in a little more than an hour. The King’s Table restaurant was situated right on Blackwater Bay and was only a short train journey from her home. She marvelled that she had been able to recover sufficiently from the events of the weekend enough to sail through the interview with Loras Tyrell, the front of house manager. Sansa had been rather stunned by the dimple cheeked, blonde, curly haired vision of male perfection that had ushered her into his office and had to suppress a girlish giggle. He looked exactly like an illustration of a prince in one of her storybooks from childhood, right down to the slight cleft of his chin. She had to dispel the image from her mind before she completely bollocksed the interview. Luckily, all went well.   
“Renly and the customers are going to love you. I just know it,” he had assured her as she left his office having been offered the job on the spot. 

 

He usually had to run his decisions past his partner Renly, the restaurant operations manager, but he was so sure that he would be in accord that he had not hesitated. Renly was at an overseas industry seminar and was not due back until the weekend and the newly vacated position needed to be filled immediately. Loras desperately needed staff for the Thursday evening shift as the restaurant was fully booked with a number of important corporate groups having made reservations. Besides, she had a glowing reference from The Sea Cow in Maidenpool, a renowned steak and seafood restaurant that she had worked at before moving to King’s Landing, so her experience was not in dispute.

 

Stopping to review her presentation in her full length bathroom mirror Sansa was pleased with her professional appearance. Her black skirt was short but not too short to be even slightly inappropriate, just short enough to show off her long legs and highlight her slim waist. Her white buttoned up collared shirt was fitted, accentuating the swell of her breasts but was just on the right side of conservative. Her hair was caught up in a bun with several strands curling loosely at the sides of her face. Her makeup was minimal with a smoky eye that brought out the intensity of the blue and a hint of blush at her high cheekbones. She was not a fan of dark lipstick colours so her lips were swiped with a nearly nude lip gloss that lent them a plump pinkness. 

 

Later, as Sansa stared out of the train window she reflected on the awkward conversation she had endured with Davos Seaworth on the morning before her interview and the rather disastrous aftermath. She wondered how she had recovered her composure sufficiently to do as well in the interview as she had given how much everything had unbalanced her.

 

“Hi Alayne. It’s Davos.”  
“Hi Davos. It’s nice to hear from you. How are Marya and your beautiful little Stannis?”  
“Marya is perfect as ever and my Stannis is a handful. But not as much of a handful as Stannis the Elder, from what I understand.”  
Sansa bit her lip and couldn’t formulate a response that wouldn’t sound rude. His friend’s appalling behaviour was not Davos’s fault after all, and she did not want it to sound like she was taking it out on him. Davos hesitated obviously trying to get his thoughts in order before launching into his speech.  
“Alayne, I’m sorry for what happened the other day. I should have known better and perhaps I should have stayed close by. Stannis is very sorry too. He realises he was wrong to speak to you in the manner that he did and he regrets it immensely.”  
Sansa had replayed the encounter in her mind many times and could only come to the conclusion that for some unfathomable reason Stannis had taken an intense dislike to her. It hurt her deeply as she was not accustomed to anyone reacting so negatively towards her, particularly as she felt she had done nothing to warrant his disapprobation.  
“He said some hurtful things to me Davos. I don’t think I can forget them. He was rude, arrogant and completely out of line,” she stated firmly. 

 

Davos seemed a little lost for words but eventually replied.  
“You have every right to be angry but try not to be too hard on him Alayne. Sometimes he is not particularly gentle or sensitive, in fact he can be a right prat. But he is not a bad man. Sometimes he puts up his defences, particularly around pretty women.”  
Sansa felt herself blushing at the compliment and was glad that Davos would not be able to witness it.  
“I wouldn’t normally do this and it has to stay strictly between us Alayne, otherwise he would skin me alive.”  
“Please, go on. What you tell me stays strictly between us.”  
There was a pause on the other end of the line and Sansa thought that perhaps Davos had changed his mind about sharing his confidences. Finally the man spoke.

“Stannis hasn’t always had an easy time with women. He had a very messy divorce from a woman who gave him nothing but grief even though he treated her like a princess. He lost custody of his daughter who he rarely sees. His ex-wife uses her as a pawn to cause him pain and to wheedle more money out of him. The divorce happened nearly six years ago and he’s never really regained trust, nor has he met anyone since that has really earned it, in my opinion. He’s distanced himself now especially when he is very attracted to the woman in question. I can’t even remember the last time he spoke to a woman outside of a business context of course.”

 

Sansa had to stifle a gasp. Was Stannis attracted to her? Surely not. He had done nothing but scowl at her the whole time they had spoken, or rather, as he had contemptuously spat his words at her. While she was flattered and she felt a rush of sympathy for his prior heartbreak it did not change the way he had treated her. She was not his ex-wife after all and had not been the cause of his prior misfortunes.

 

“I’m sorry to hear that he has been hurt in the past Davos but that has nothing to do with me. I didn’t go there asking for anything from him other than to say I was sorry for his injuries and to offer him my thanks.”  
“He realises that now Alayne and he totally regrets his behaviour. He wanted to come and see you or to ring you directly but I didn’t want to give him your details without your consent. I will text you his phone number. He would very much like to hear from you. I’m just asking you to think about it. Please give him another chance. I know you are a kind person. At least let him get this off his conscience. He keeps on about it so it is obviously eating away at him.”  
“I’ll think about it Davos. That’s all I can promise at the moment.”  
“That’s good enough for me. Oh and by the way, Marya would very much like to meet you for a coffee sometime, if you would like to.”  
“That would be lovely Davos. Please send me her number too and I’ll ring her to arrange something soon.”  
They said goodbye to each other before Sansa terminated the call.

 

Minutes later her phone bleeped with a text from Davos containing both Stannis’s and Marya’s cell numbers. Her mind in turmoil, she contemplated ringing Stannis but she just couldn’t face it. She needed to sleep on it. She was not sure that he deserved absolution so quickly and easily, or at all for that matter, and she didn’t know how she would handle speaking or meeting with him after their last confrontation. She was very keen to set up a coffee date with Marya though so she punched in the number and waited for the reply.

 

“Stannis Baratheon speaking.”  
Sansa’s jaw dropped and the blood drained from her face. She could not stifle the involuntary and clearly audible gasp that left her mouth.  
“Hello? Who is this? Miss Stone is that you?”  
Shit, shit, shit, she cursed internally.  
Sansa stabbed desperately at the phone terminating the call. She checked Davos’s text. Yep. It wasn’t some sort of ruse on his behalf: she didn’t really believe he had it in him to be that devious. She had been a complete dumb arse and mixed up the numbers. She felt decidedly nauseous. Mere seconds later the phone rang. It was Stannis’s number. In a panic she rejected the call and then muted the phone leaving it on her coffee table while she tried to get on with the rest of her day. She had to prepare for her job interview so she did at least have some distractions. Two hours later she checked her phone and noticed two missed calls and two text messages from Stannis.

 

Is this Miss Stone? Why did you ring and then hang up? Why won’t you take my calls? Please call me back. I would like to speak with you. SB.

The second message was sent an hour later.

It looks like you’re not prepared to forgive me. I can’t say that I blame you. My conduct was boorish and inexcusable. I am more sorry than you will ever know. If you change your mind, I’ll be here. If not, then I wish we could have met under better circumstances. Yours SB.

 

Knowing how cold and standoffish Stannis was from her experience with him and from what his friend’s candid comments had revealed, Sansa was taken aback by the comparative warmth of Stannis’s second text. He sounded genuinely contrite and as though he really wanted an opportunity to re-engage with her. But she was too confused and emotional to deal with it and determined not to let all this affect her chances at the job interview so she deleted the messages without replying and tried to erase his words from her mind. That proved to be easier said than done.


	7. Chapter 7

Little sparrow, little sparrow  
Precious fragile little thing  
Little sparrow, little sparrow  
Flies so high and feels no pain  
All ye maidens hede my warning  
Never trust the hearts of men  
They will crush you like a sparrow  
Leaving you to never mend  
They will vow to always love you  
Swear no love but yours will do  
Then they'll leave you for another  
Break your little heart in two

Little sparrow, little sparrow  
Precious fragile little thing  
Little sparrow, little sparrow  
Flies so high and feels no pain *

 

“That’s a beautiful song, little bird.”  
Sansa looked up from her guitar and smiled at the man who watched her from the other side of the fence. She raised herself from the blanket she had been sitting on, placed the guitar on the ground and walked slowly towards him.  
“Hi, Mr Clegane. It’s Dolly Parton. Mom loves her music. This is her favourite song.”  
“It might become my favourite too as long as you’re the one singing it,” he replied.  
Sansa stopped when she reached the fence, her small hands grasping the top of the timber palings. She was practically eleven now and tall enough that she didn’t have to stand on her toes to look at him over the fence but he was so big she still had to look up to meet his eyes.  
“Where have you been? Mom said you had to go away but you’ve been gone so long. I missed you,” she added a little shyly.  
“Did you just,” he harrumphed as the unscarred side of his mouth quirked upwards.

 

Suddenly he became serious.  
“I did something bad and I had to be punished for it.”  
Sansa gasped and clapped her hand to her mouth.  
“You went to prison?” she asked in a hushed voice.  
“Yes. For a time. But I’m back now. You’ll have to put up with my ugly mug again. Are you really sure you missed me or is it just my lemon cakes you missed?” he joked.  
“I don’t care about the lemon cakes. I missed YOU and I don’t think your face is ugly,” she stated firmly.  
He looked away, his eyes were sad and a bit watery.  
She wanted to ask him what he had done that was so bad. He was always so nice to her and to her family so she couldn’t imagine him doing anything too terrible.

 

“Did you miss me, Mr Clegane?”  
His eyes shot up to regard her. He looked kind of intense.  
“What do you think, little bird?”  
“I think you missed me. I think you like it when I sing. You know, when I come out here and sing it’s because I’m singing for you.”  
He was quiet for a long time.  
“And here I was thinking it was to get away from your small army of loud and pestering siblings,” he joked eventually but his voice sounded strange, sort of tight.  
“Nope. I’ve got a bedroom for that,” she answered.  
“Do you have brothers and sisters, Mr Clegane?”  
The man’s eyes darkened and he scowled briefly then he looked at her with a blank expression.  
“A brother. I haven’t seen him in years,” he replied in a strange voice.  
“That’s too bad,” she remarked feeling sad. She couldn’t imagine life without all of her brothers and her sister around her.

 

“What was it like in prison? It must have been hard?”  
A pained look crossed his face. Maybe she shouldn’t have asked. Maybe it wasn’t polite to bring it up.  
“It was hard. But you made it easier.”  
What did that mean? She hadn’t been there, hadn’t even known. She wondered if her Mom would have let her go to the prison to visit him. No way in hell, she figured. Her Mom and Dad hadn’t even told her where he was. She was feeling kind of angry with them for that. She wasn’t a little kid anymore.

 

“At night they would lock us in our small cell. It was a very small cell and very dark. I had no one to talk to and I had trouble sleeping so you know what I did?  
“No, what did you do?” she asked, intrigued.  
“I would close my eyes and I would pretend that I was standing right where I’m standing now. And you would be sitting over there under the oak tree in that pretty white dress you wore on your last Name Day, the pink ribbon in your hair. The rays of the sun would be slanting in through the leaves of the tree and the light would catch your beautiful red hair. And then you would sing. Soft and sweet like a little bird, my little bird. My little bird that sang away all my cares and troubles and eased me into quiet dreams.”

His voice sounded very sad and he looked down as he finished. She didn’t know why but she felt the need to touch him then. Shaking slightly she reached over the fence and brought her hand closer to the scarred side of his face. His eyes snapped up but he didn’t flinch away; just stood there staring at her. He looked afraid. She cradled his face with her hand gently caressing the rough hard surface of his ruined skin. He never spoke, his jaw had slackened and he had closed his eyes and had pressed his face more firmly against her hand.  
“Does it hurt?”  
His eyes opened. They glistened and the skin at the corners looked a little damp.  
“Not in the way that you think, little bird.”  
She left her hand on his face while his big hand reached over and fiddled with the pink ribbon tied in her hair. They stared at each other but neither spoke.

 

“SANSA, INSIDE NOW!”  
Sansa jumped and turned around. Her father was standing there and he was mad. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him look so cross. She froze and then looked back at Mr Clegane. He looked a little nervous.  
“I said get inside Sansa. I’m not going to say it again.”  
She could not remember him ever speaking so sternly to her before.  
Sansa took one last look at him and ran into the house, slamming the door after her. She could hear her Dad yelling but only silence from the man on the other side of the fence. After a time her father stormed inside but he did not look at her.

 

Sansa crept into the hallway later that night and heard her parents arguing, their voices tense and agitated.  
“I don’t care Catelyn. He was touching her. He was touching our daughter.”  
“She told me exactly what happened Ned. It’s not what it looked like. She was comforting him because she found out a little of what he had been through in prison. You know how she is. She’s so sensitive; she felt sorry for him.”  
“That’s all well and good but he is a grown man and should know better than to let a young girl touch him. Does it sound right to you?”  
“No, of course not, but…”  
“He’s a low life with a criminal record as long as your arm, Catelyn. Don’t forget that.”  
“No Ned. He’s a man who’s made a few mistakes in his life and he has paid for them. You’re hardly ever here. You don’t see them together like I do. He’s never overstepped with her. He cares for Sansa and he would never harm her. Don’t forget that if it wasn’t for him we never would have found out about what Petyr was doing to her.”

 

Sansa was confused. She remembered that almost three years ago her mother had come to her at bedtime one night asking a whole lot of questions about her uncle. She told her about the cuddles and the kisses and how he would sit her on his lap and stroke her hair and her back and tickle the tops of her thighs. Sometimes he would put her hand between his legs. Her mother had cried, hugged her and tucked her into bed. The next day her mother and father had taken her to a big building in the city. A kind lady and a man asked her the same sorts of questions that her mother had asked her. Afterwards they told her she was a good girl and brave. She wasn’t sure why. She had never seen her uncle since and her aunt was no longer married to him. 

Her father grunted and scowled.  
“Don’t mention that fucking bastard’s name in this house. He should have gone to jail but he’s like the bloody Teflon man. Nothing sticks. How he got off I will never know. If I ever see him again I will kill that fucker with my bare hands.”  
“Ned, calm down. Petyr is out of our lives now. Listen, about Sandor. I will go and speak to him. Leave it to me. You’re too angry right now and it will just make matters worse.”  
“He is not to talk to Sansa or as much as look in her direction. If he does I’ll make sure his sorry arse is locked up for good. Make sure he understands that.”  
Her mother sighed but said nothing further.

 

The next morning she sneaked out very early and spread her blanket over the ground underneath the oak tree. She strummed the guitar and began to sing.

 

I am not a little sparrow  
I am just the broken dream  
Of a cold false-hearted lover  
And his evil cunning scheme

Little sparrow, little sparrow  
Precious fragile little thing  
Little sparrow, little sparrow  
Flies so high and feels no pain

All ye maidens fair and tender  
Never trust the hearts of men  
They will crush you like a sparrow  
Leaving you to never mend

Little sparrow, little sparrow  
Oh the sorrow never ends

She looked up at his kitchen window and thought she saw a dark shadow there but when she blinked it was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * "Little Sparrow" Song and Lyrics, Dolly Parton, 2001


	8. Chapter 8

Her first shift at the restaurant started out hectic but enjoyable. The systems and the layout of the space were not dissimilar to the Sea Cow so she had adapted pretty quickly. Loras had supplied her with details regarding the menu which she had taken much time and effort in the days since her interview to consign to memory should any guests require clarification about provenance of ingredients and preparation of the dishes. It was fortunate that she had as some of the dishes were complicated and involved multiple techniques and some very exotic ingredients that customers were unfamiliar with. Loras had overheard several exchanges between herself and a table of regular VIP customers she had been assigned and had praised her for her knowledge and her manner with the guests who appeared very satisfied with her service. Unfortunately about half way through her shift everything started to head south.

 

After having delivered the cheque to her VIP table, Loras approached a little later, flashing her a bright, startlingly white toothed smile.   
“They left a huge tip, Alayne and they’ve made another larger booking for next week. They liked the food of course, but they particularly remarked on the level of service. I knew I made the right decision hiring you.”  
Sansa glowed at the compliment caring naught for the tip. It wasn’t as if she needed the money but she was sorely in need of the praise.  
“Come with me for a minute, Alayne. There’s someone I would like you to meet.”  
Intrigued, Sansa followed behind Loras heading towards the best table in the room, next to a large floor to ceiling window with a beautiful view out to the Red Keep and the dark waters of Blackwater Bay. The table was occupied by two men in expensive looking business suits; one was facing away from her, the other was a very attractive exotic looking man in his mid-thirties with an olive complexion, expressive brown eyes and thick dark hair. The man facing her met her eyes as they approached and smiled rakishly; the other man was tapping away at a laptop, his head lowered and completely oblivious to their presence.

 

“Excuse me Boss. I know you like to meet the new servers so I came to introduce you to our latest recruit.”  
The man with the laptop reluctantly raised his head to regard them. Sansa gasped and dropped her PDA in shocked recognition; she bent to retrieve it from the floor as quickly as she could, relieved that it was still in operating order. The man appeared startled at first as his eyebrows shot upwards but then he frowned and glared at her intently. He did not rise from his seat.  
“This is Alayne Stone. Alayne, this is Stannis Baratheon. He is the owner of this establishment,” Loras announced, shooting them both a confused look.  
“Miss Stone,” he acknowledged coldly.  
“P- Pleased to see you again, Mr Baratheon.”   
“You know each other?” Loras enquired.  
“We have met before. Once. Briefly,” Stannis replied stiffly.

 

Remembering his manners Stannis introduced the man across the table from him although the gesture appeared entirely perfunctory.  
“This is Oberyn Martell, a business associate.”  
Sansa had been acutely aware that the man had not taken his eyes off her from the moment he saw her. He rose from his seat and reached for Sansa’s hand. Instead of shaking it he raised it to his lips and kissed the back of it lightly. Sansa blushed and smiled timidly. He was very charming and incredibly attractive and she had to admit to herself that she did not mind the attention.  
“A pleasure Miss Stone. Mmmm. I had not thought to encounter such an exquisite jewel here in this place. Such a lovely surprise.”  
She glanced quickly at Stannis who overtly rolled his eyes with a look that could only be construed as contemptuous, of her or of his dinner companion, she could not be certain.

 

Oberyn’s voice was every bit as affecting as his appearance, warm and flowing like honey with an accent that she recognised as Dornish. She was determined to make a good impression on him, having given up on Stannis as a lost cause. His scowl had only deepened as he continued to observe the interaction between herself and his handsome business associate; he was getting on her last nerve. She swore that if they were not in a public place he would have actually growled out loud at her. Taking a deep breath and smiling her winningest smile she employed her most professional demeanour. With great effort she focused on Oberyn, ignoring Stannis completely.

 

“Good Evening Mr Martell. I trust you are having a pleasant evening. I know I am not allocated to this table tonight but if there is anything that I can do to make your or Mr Baratheon’s experience more enjoyable this evening please do not hesitate to ask.”  
“Hmmm. Such a wonderful offer, Miss Stone,” he hummed seductively as he regained his seat.   
“Wherever did you find her, Stannis,” he added.  
Oberyn didn’t take his eyes off her and he smirked, his cheeks dimpling.  
Sansa felt herself redden; the room suddenly felt way too warm. Stannis grunted in annoyance, his hands that were resting on the table tightening into fists, his jaw clenching.   
“That will be all for now, thank you Miss Stone,” he grated. “The room is full. I am sure you have other tables who could do with your…..attention.”  
“Of course, Mr Baratheon. Right away. Nice to have met you Mr Martell.”  
“The pleasure was all mine. Good Evening, Miss Stone.”

 

Sansa busied herself with her allocated tables and willed herself not to look in Stannis’s direction. As she moved around the room she was sure she could feel eyes on her but she was not sure if they were Martell’s or her employer’s. She thought the night could not become more tumultuous until she spotted a man entering the premises and waiting to be seated. She recognised him immediately by his dark, beautifully tailored suit, his immaculately groomed moustache and beard, the black hair with a flash of grey at the temples and a silver mockingbird tie clip that he habitually wore.  
Oh fuck, no. Petyr.  
She had not noticed his name amongst the reservations so she surmised he was a walk in. Petyr was seated by Loris at a table adjacent to Oberyn Martell and Stannis; thankfully it was not one of her tables. Once seated Petyr looked straight in her direction and smiled broadly. None of that smile reached his eyes. A short conversation ensued between Petyr and Loras. She knew in her guts what would happen next and her stomach lurched as right on cue, Loras turned to face her and gestured for her to approach. She was very aware that Stannis was observing her as she walked reluctantly towards Petyr’s table.

 

“Alayne, this is Mr Baelish. He is one of our regular VIP clientele. He has specifically asked to have you assigned to his table tonight. Please ensure he is looked after.”  
Curse you Petyr.  
“Good Evening, Mr Baelish. It would be my pleasure to serve you tonight,” she responded as politely as she could manage. Petyr’s smile widened even further, a mischievous glint in his grey green eyes.  
“Call me Petyr, please Alayne. I must say Loras, your recruitment strategy seems to have improved markedly if this lovely young lady is anything to go by.”  
“Alayne is a very good server Mr Baelish. I don’t think you will be disappointed,” Loras replied, shooting the man a quizzical look.  
“Oh, I feel quite sure that I will be far from disappointed Loras,” he replied silkily.  
Sansa shot him a warning look and fidgeted nervously with a lock of her hair.  
“Alright, I’ll leave you to it then, Alayne. Please have an enjoyable night Mr Baelish. I will send over a complimentary bottle of wine – your usual Arbor Gold?”  
“Excellent. Thank you Loras.”

 

Sansa kept her voice low and steady. Tables were far enough removed and background noise sufficient to mask any conversation between them; as long as she could control her body language and facial expressions she should not raise any suspicions. Could this night get any worse?  
“Petyr, what the hell are you doing here?”   
“Having dinner my sweet.”  
“Don’t be cute Petyr. Why are you really here?”  
“You heard Loras. I am a regular at this establishment. The better question is: why are you here?”  
“My money has to appear to come from somewhere and besides, I’m bored and lonely. This is a good job Petyr. Don’t get me fired like you did with my last job.”  
Petyr scoffed at her.  
“You call serving lattes to aggressive impatient businessmen and bored uneducated housewives a job? I did you a favour. You were too good for that place. And don’t forget I sacrificed a perfectly serviceable Kiton suit and suffered burns to my person to get you out of that godforsaken café.”  
“You embarrassed the living shit out of me Petyr. Please, I really want to keep this job. Don’t ruin it for me,” she pleaded.  
She shuddered as she remembered Petyr’s ploy of appearing to have been the recipient of a full cup of steaming coffee in his lap from a clumsy and inept server. Of course the coffee had only been lukewarm but Petyr had hammed it up and the spineless owner of the café had caved and fired her on the spot. The only bright point in her short stint at the café was meeting Gilly and Jeyne, two regular customers that she became acquainted with during her shifts and with whom she had developed an ongoing friendship. 

 

“Alright, alright. I do have to say this is a step up. But you deserve so much more. I can give it to you, if you let me.”  
“Petyr, you’ve done so much for me already,” she replied, ignoring his obvious insinuation.   
“You could at least show me some gratitude then and visit me a bit more frequently. I have only seen you a couple of times since you moved here, once to hand over the keys to the apartment and the coffee shower.”  
He seemed a little hurt when he spoke but Sansa was aware that the length of their conversation was becoming suspicious to any prying eyes that may be observing them and could not allow the extra time it would take to mollify him. She was aware of a set of piercingly blue eyes that had been trained on them since she had arrived at his table.  
“I need to take your order now, Petyr. What would you like?  
Petyr sighed loudly.  
“I will take the confit Farosian duck and the rocket, walnut and Myrish orange salad.”  
“Excellent choice. If you require anything further please ask.”  
“Thank you Alayne. You can be sure that I will,” he smirked.

 

Sansa turned from him and exhaled shakily walking to a new group of guests who had been seated at one of her assigned tables, glad to escape Petyr’s orbit. Her relief was short lived however as Petyr continually called her over to his table with trivial demands: extra sauce for his duck, extra dressing for the salad, a grinding of pepper, an order of bread, sparkling water, the list went on and on. She wanted to scream, to strangle him, to slap that bloody smirk right off his face but all she could do was smile politely and accede to his every whim. She was conscious of the fact that some of her other customers were being neglected in the process but she had no idea how to extricate herself from the situation. Thankfully Petyr eventually relented, finished his meal, paid his account leaving an astronomical tip and departed without further engaging her, other than a wink and an insincere smile. The rest of her shift proceeded without incident and eventually as the restaurant cleared she prepared to make her way home.

“Miss Stone!”  
Sansa nearly jumped out of her skin. The voice that called out to her was deep and had a steely edge to it. She could not mistake it.   
“A moment please. In the office.”

Holy shit. Here it comes.


	9. Chapter 9

Stannis walked her past the kitchen and down a corridor towards the back office, ushering her inside and closing the door behind them. She placed her coat and bag on the desk next to her. He turned to face her; she couldn’t help but notice how close they were to each other in the cramped space available.  
“Would you care to explain yourself?” he enquired sharply.  
“Explain what, Mr Baratheon?”  
Stannis glared at her in exasperation.

 

“Let’s start with why you would ring me, hang up and then refuse to take my calls or answer my texts?”  
Sansa decided she would have to be truthful.  
“I rang you in error. Davos….I mean, Mr Seaworth, sent me your number and his wife’s number in a text. I had intended to ring Mrs Seaworth but I dialled your number by mistake.”  
“Why did you not just speak to me? Why did you hang up?”  
“I- I wasn’t ready to speak to you. I didn’t want to speak to you, not right at that time,” she stammered.

 

He tilted his head slightly to the side considering her answer.  
“Well, hanging up was a somewhat immature thing to do but at least that was an honest response. And my texts? Surely you understood that I only wished to apologise for my poor behaviour towards you. Would it have been too much of an imposition to simply text me back, even if you did not wish to speak with me? Were you hoping to cause me some discomfort over this, make me feel guilty, play games with me?”  
“No, of course not!” she cried in indignation. “I guess I didn’t think a text was appropriate in the context. Some things should not be communicated by text.”  
“Well, I am here now. What is it that you would communicate to me that would not have been appropriate via text?”  
Sansa stared at him and held her breath. His eyes bore into her as he waited for her response.  
“That I forgive you for the things you said to me,” she replied in a soft voice barely more than a whisper as her gaze lowered.  
Stannis was quiet for a long time but he continued to frown at her, his lips turned down in a perpetual scowl.

 

“I see. Well, thank you although an earlier declaration would have been welcome,” he huffed imperiously.  
She knew now that he was not prepared to give an inch and she was rapidly losing patience.  
“Is that all, Mr Baratheon? It’s starting to get late and I have to catch the train home,” she muttered.  
“No Miss Stone, that is decidedly not all. Would you care to explain how you ended up here working in my restaurant? It is very coincidental and I do not believe in coincidences.”  
Sansa tensed in irritation bringing herself to her full height. She was gratified to note that in her heels she was only slightly shorter than Stannis and felt a little less intimidated.  
“I don’t know what you are trying to insinuate but I can assure you that it is completely coincidental. My interview was arranged last week with Loras, well before we encountered each other.”  
Stannis grunted but would not be diverted.  
“Surely you knew before you commenced that Renly, the operations manager, is my brother.”  
“Oh! No, I did not know that. Loras never mentioned his surname to me,” Sansa replied in surprise.

 

Stannis continued relentlessly.  
“Then I hear from Mr Seaworth that you had coffee with his wife yesterday and that you had somehow managed to wrangle an invitation to my older brother’s black tie Name Day celebration on Saturday.”  
“Both of those things happened at Mrs Seaworth’s instigation. Ask her if you do not believe me.”  
“Hmph. It is interesting how are lives seem to be intersecting so much lately.”  
Sansa did not reply.  
“Did you discuss me with Marya?” he asked.  
Sansa felt an unwelcome blush at her cheeks. Marya had indeed spent the majority of their coffee date talking up Stannis’s merits and imploring her to give him another chance. In the end she had decided that she would extend the olive branch based on what Marya had shared with her. She just hadn’t had the opportunity. There was no way she was giving him the satisfaction of knowing that now however.  
“My God. You are such an insufferable arse,” she hissed. “It’s not always about you. No wonder the doorway to this restaurant is so large, otherwise you could never fit your over-inflated ego through it,” she spat.  
She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. The man’s eyes were stormy and he was grinding his teeth. His jaw was stiff with tension and his fists curled at his side. She took an involuntary step backwards; thankfully he did not move to close the gap.

 

“I think I should go now,” she mumbled.  
“Not so fast. A couple more questions.”  
Sansa crossed her arms defensively and waited for Stannis to continue his interrogation.  
“Why did you feel it necessary to flirt with the successful wealthy male guests in the restaurant? And why did many of them leave you such incredibly generous tips? You seem to be good at wrapping men around your little finger.”  
“Are you serious?” she yelled, now completely infuriated. “Flirting? What men?”  
“Oberyn Martell and Petyr Baelish for starters. A couple of other patrons on other tables commented to Loras about how ‘sensational’ you were and specifically requested you as their personal server on their next visit. We have plenty of other competent servers on our books but they have never garnered that sort of response, particularly on their first shift.”

 

Sansa’s brain raced. Oberyn and the other male guests were easy to explain away, not that she should bloody well have to, but Petyr? She decided to take a big risk and tell the truth because this man was too sharp and would spot a deceit a mile away. Besides lying convincingly under pressure had never been her strong suit. She would try and divert him first and then, if necessary, tell him a part truth and hope it threw him off the scent.  
“You know full well that Mr Martell was the one to flirt with me and not the other way around. I was simply showing him professional hospitality, as I did with all of my guests whether they happened to be male or female. You would have to ask those men what made them tip me so generously and to request my service again. Are you seriously criticising me for being good at my job and generating repeat business for your restaurant?”

 

“Well, you may have been good at your job in some respects but you seem to have neglected some of your tables during your frequent visits to Baelish’s table and you appeared to have a very long involved discussion with him upon first meeting. Or was it a first meeting, I wonder?” he enquired sharply.  
She knew now that he wasn’t letting it go and was waiting to catch her in a lie, so she did the only thing she could and threw caution to the wind.  
“It was not my first meeting with Mr Baelish – Petyr. He is my uncle.”  
Stannis could not hide his surprise.  
“What? I didn’t even know he had any family.”  
“He married my mother’s sister up North in the Vale. I haven’t seen him in years. I was surprised to see him here in King’s Landing. He has missed me, not having any other family living, so I guess he was monopolising me a little. I understand he is one of your valued regulars so I do not feel that my attention to his table was questionable in any case. But of course if I had superpowers and could have split myself in half and attended to everyone equally I would have done so,” she added sarcastically. 

 

“You are being impertinent Miss Stone,” he warned.  
Sansa was now completely exasperated.  
“Look, if you’re going to fire me can you just get on with it. I have a life you know and I would rather like to get back to it.”  
“I am not going to fire you. I don’t make the hiring and firing decisions here in any case. I provide the capital but I am more of a silent partner. Renly and Loras run the show here.”  
“But if you did make those decisions you would fire me?”  
“Perhaps let you off with a warning.”  
She wasn’t sure if he was teasing her; surely he must be joking? His tone said otherwise and his manner with her so far made her highly doubtful.  
“You are unbelievable,” she fumed.  
“But not to worry,” he continued. “At least if you lost this job you could always approach your uncle for a job in one of his establishments. I am sure you would be appreciated there.”

 

Sansa gasped in shock. Petyr ran a chain of high end adult entertainment nightclubs. He knew what Stannis was insinuating none too subtly and was hurt to the core. In her younger life males had often subjected her to physical and emotional abuse but through it all she had never forgotten the young innocent girl she used to be. She was decorous, polite, unassuming. In many ways she also remained inexperienced sexually. She had never known the pleasurable aspects of the sexual act, only those that had become associated for her with pain, fear and degradation. She clung to what little of her original self still remained and hoped for something more, some day: a normal life with a man she loved and who loved her for who she was rather than for her body. She was tired of men ogling her, propositioning her, touching her inappropriately and speaking to her disrespectfully. She was constantly forced to fend off unwanted attention and she was weary of it. In the context of all of this Stannis’s assessment of her was like a kick in the stomach. 

 

“How dare you?” she seethed as she stepped towards him and raised her arm to slap him.  
He was too quick and grabbed her wrist before her hand could make contact. Time seemed to stop as they stood face to face mere inches apart, both breathing heavily. Stannis retained a vice like grip on her wrist and glared intently into her eyes. To her dismay she could feel all of the pent up frustration, rage and hurt that had gathered over the last several days surge within her. She blinked furiously as tears stung at her eyes. She swallowed thickly, her bottom lip trembling before she forced out the words in little more than a hoarse whisper.  
“That is really what you think of me?”  
Stannis dropped his hand from her wrist and took a step back. His eyes had lost some of their dark edge. She thought she saw concern there and perhaps shame but she was just as convinced that it was merely wishful thinking. This man did not have a heart or if he did he was not sharing it with her. He opened his mouth as if to speak but shut it again without commenting.

 

Sansa picked up her coat and bag from the table and spoke somewhat tremulously.  
“I see. Your silence speaks volumes. Just tell me something before I go.”  
Stannis did not speak but gave an almost imperceptible nod of the head.  
“Why do you hate me so much? What have I done for you to be so cruel to me,” she sobbed as she finally lost control.  
Not wishing for him to witness her breakdown she whirled from him and headed towards the door.  
“Miss Stone,” he called out as he strode up behind her and took hold of her elbow.  
“Don’t!” she cried and shook him off, opening the door and running down the corridor towards the restaurant exit.  
“Alayne, please come back,” she heard as the door shut behind her and she stumbled out on to the main road, blinded by tears. Wiping furiously at her eyes she ran towards the subway station and as far away from Stannis Baratheon as she could get.


	10. Chapter 10

Sansa sat on the lounge with her legs curled up under her eating from a large tub of lemon gelato. Her scheduled train had been cancelled so it had taken a while to get home. She would soon have to think about going to bed as she had promised to meet Jeyne and Gilly for coffee in the morning but she felt too wired from the events of earlier in the night. Suddenly she heard the ringing of her doorbell.  
“Who on earth can this be at this time of night,” she mumbled.  
Flinging the door open she gasped as she registered the figure who stood before her. She took a moment to compose herself and made sure her voice sounded as clipped, cold and steady as she could manage. He was not going to get under her skin again – no way José.

 

“Mr Baratheon, what are you doing here? How did you get this address?”  
“From your personnel file at the restaurant.”  
“You shouldn’t have done that. You shouldn’t be here. You have my phone number. You could have rung me,” she stated firmly.  
“And should I have had any expectation that you would answer the call based on previous experience?”  
He had a point. She most decidedly would not have accepted his call. Even so, he had surely overstepped.  
“Perhaps not, but you could have left a text.”  
“Some things should not be communicated by text,” he replied gently.  
To her chagrin she felt herself waiver as she heard her own words spoken back at her.

 

Sensing an opening, he continued.  
“Please, I know I have no right but I really would like to speak with you. I know it’s late but I felt compelled to come.”  
Having lost its imperious tone, Stannis’s imploring voice and pleading deep blue eyes were starting to chip away at her resolve but she maintained a frosty air.   
“Why, so you can go ahead and insult me some more. Haven’t you said enough for one night?”  
“I assure you that will not happen again.”  
Sansa proceeded to close the door.  
“Please, Alayne.”  
He looked nervous and his voice uncertain. His ever present scowl was gone, the lines of his face smoothed. His posture was less rigid, his hair a little mussed. His jacket and tie were gone and he had unbuttoned the top of his business shirt. He looked so completely at odds with the supremely self-confident, almost cocksure way he normally presented. Damn it, he looked… sexy. But she was not about to let him off the hook so easily.

 

“Did Loras send you here? Don’t worry. I know tomorrow night will be busy and you’re shorthanded. I will turn up for my shift. Despite what you think of me I am professional.”  
“No, this has nothing to do with your job. Please, Alayne.”  
It did not escape Sansa’s notice that he now addressed her in a much more familiar manner, as he did when she had fled the office earlier and his voice had completely lost its hard edge.

 

Sansa relented and stepped aside to allow him entry. As she did so she blushed as she realised the manner in which she was dressed. She had grabbed the first things that came to hand, a pair of very short cut off denim shorts and a white tank top which she had pulled over her lacy black bra the outline of which she was certain could be quite easily discerned underneath the top. Feeling suddenly exposed, she fiddled with her hair as surreptitiously as she could so that it covered as much of her chest area as possible. She crossed her arms, squared her shoulders and narrowed her eyes coldly. She could not help but notice that his eyes scanned her figure fleetingly before returning resolutely to her face.

 

“You’ve been crying,“ he observed, his voice softened.  
She supposed that her eyes were still reddened and puffy from the crying jag she had only just recovered from. She did not respond.  
“Alayne,” he muttered. “I don’t know what to say to you. I have acted in a way that is completely unworthy of me. You were so gracious in accepting my apology for my previous conduct that I am ashamed to have treated you again with such utter disrespect. I have nothing but contempt for myself. Sometimes I am a stupid, prideful man. That is the only thing I can say in my defence.”  
Sansa felt tears threatening but steeled herself to remain impassive.  
“I have been nothing but polite and kind to you, Mr Baratheon. You have hurt me very deeply. You all but called me a whore; you accused me of hitting on your customers; and that is after you pretty much accused me of causing those men to attack me the other night,” she bit out.  
“That was very wrong of me. And incredibly insensitive given what you had been through. Please believe that is not what I think of you.”  
“Then why did you do it? Why on earth did you say those terrible things to me?”

 

Stannis turned away from her momentarily and then whipped around to face her again stepping closer to her until they were only inches apart. His face was a battleground of competing emotions, his eyes full of a sentiment she could not identify.  
“You do something to me, something I never expected,” he rasped eventually.   
He seemed in the throes of some internal struggle but continued.  
“I have never felt like this before and I did not know how to deal with it. I said those things because I am very attracted to you and because I am a jealous fool.”  
Sansa was completely stunned.  
“What do you mean jealous? Of whom?”  
“Oberyn Martell, Peter Baelish; any man that you interacted with in the restaurant tonight. The men you spoke to and that you smiled and laughed with when all the while I wished you had gifted your smiles and laughs to me. Unfortunately I have made you completely indifferent to me with my contemptible behaviour.”  
Sansa was taken aback by the naked candour and passion with which Stannis spoke. She would never have suspected him capable. She felt a warm glow in her chest and a fluttering in her stomach but still she would make him work a little harder for his atonement.

 

“You have made it very difficult for me to want to give you those things, Stannis,” she replied, kicking herself for not referring to him by his surname as she usually did.   
Somehow she was finding it very difficult to remain angry with him, although she knew that it was exactly what he deserved.  
Stannis reached out his hand and brought it to the side of her face smoothing an errant lock of her hair behind her ear. He brushed the shell of her ear with his fingers as he did so eliciting a slight shiver from her. His hand came to rest on her shoulder and then slid down her arm slowly. His strong hand felt hot against her cool skin. She had to bite back a moan from the contact.   
“I know. I’m not worthy of them.” he replied. “Please say you will forgive me. Please tell me I haven’t completely destroyed any chance.”  
He was staring at her lips and moving his head closer and closer to her. She licked her lips and parted them slightly in response.  
“A chance of what?” she asked breathlessly.  
“This,” he responded as he tilted his head and leaned in to press his lips gently against hers.

 

The kiss was tender, his lips firm and warm. It was not aggressive, it was not dominating. It was full of restrained longing and many unspoken words. His muscled arms wove around her waist and pulled her close as he deepened the kiss. Sansa groaned as she felt the press of his hard chest against her breasts, a warm jolt of pleasure surging through her body and travelling to her core. Taking advantage of her parted lips Stannis invaded her mouth with his tongue and searched hungrily for hers. She reciprocated, weaving her tongue around his and exploring his mouth with abandon. She found his taste and the feel of his lips as they moved over hers completely addictive. After some time Stannis broke the kiss and gifted her with a slight quirk of the lips, the first approximation of a smile that she could remember seeing from him.  
“Does this mean I am forgiven?” he asked.  
Sansa pretended to consider and maintained a serious expression although she had to suppress a broad smile.

 

“Maybe a little. Maybe you need to work a bit harder before I forgive you completely.”  
Stannis huffed in amusement and leaned in to kiss her again but she pushed gently against his chest and smiled at him creating a little distance between them. Stannis gave her a slight frown.  
“That was lovely and I want to work further on this whole forgiveness thing but not tonight. It’s been a really long day Stannis and it’s getting late,” she said as she brushed her hands lightly across his chest.

 

“Of course, you’re right,” he acknowledged, although he did sound disappointed.  
“I’m at the restaurant again tomorrow night. Will you be there?” she asked.  
“Unfortunately not. I have a late business meeting and dinner scheduled elsewhere.”  
Now it was her turn to be disappointed.   
“Still, I will see you on Saturday night at Robert’s party,” she stated.  
“I was going to talk to you about that.”  
Sansa glanced at him nervously.  
“You would rather that I didn’t come?” she asked bracing herself for further disappointment as she had been looking forward to it.  
“No, why would you think that?” he asked looking quite confused.  
“Isn’t it going to be rather awkward to be around each other and pretend that we’re not, you know, we aren’t…. that we aren’t interested in each other,” she finished blushing.  
“That’s not going to be a problem because I’d like for you to attend the party as my date, if you are agreeable.”  
“Really?” she squeaked loudly. Suddenly she realised how undignified she had been and felt her face redden even more as she stepped away from him.

 

“I take it that’s a yes,” he asked with an amused twinkle in his eyes.  
“Umm. Yes. I would love to be your date,” she replied politely as she bit at her lower lip.  
Sansa could tell that Stannis was trying very hard not to laugh at her enthusiastic response to his invitation and she thought it was a shame. She would have liked to hear what a full bodied laugh sounded like from him. She imagined it was a rarity.  
“I’ll pick you up at 7pm,” he said leaning in to plant a quick chaste kiss on her lips.  
“Good night Stannis.”  
“Good night Alayne,” he whispered before he turned and left through the front door.


	11. Chapter 11

Sansa’s second shift at the restaurant went smoothly. She was relieved that Petyr had not made a reappearance as she wasn’t in the mood to deal with his possessive nonsense two nights running. Just as she was about to leave, her phone vibrated in her coat pocket. Withdrawing the phone she checked the incoming number.  
Shit. Speak of the Devil.  
“Hi Petyr. What’s up?” she answered with a sigh.  
“That’s not a very enthusiastic greeting my sweet,” he replied.  
Sansa attempted to sound more cheerful but she was sure it just sounded forced.  
“Yeah. Sorry. Just tired. How are you?”  
“I would be better if I could talk to you properly. Can I see you tonight? Are you at home?”  
The last thing Sansa wanted was to meet with him tonight, especially alone at the apartment after the way he had behaved at the restaurant the previous night. But she couldn’t put it off forever. Biting the bullet she arranged to meet him at his club. Petyr offered to pay for the cab but she didn’t want to be beholding to him any more than she already was.

 

Arriving at the club half an hour later one of the bouncers escorted her upstairs to the private rooms where Petyr housed his office and his personal quarters that he used on occasion when business kept him there at late hours. The bouncer knocked and opened the door ushering her inside. Once the door had closed Petyr rose from the armchair he had been reclining in and moved towards her, smiling, his arms outstretched.  
“Sansa. Thank you for coming. I have missed you.”  
He pulled her towards him embracing her and planting a kiss on the corner of her mouth. His lips lingered a bit too long for it to be considered a chaste kiss and he did not release her from the hug. She could smell Scotch on his breath and spied a nearly empty glass and a half full bottle sitting on his coffee table. Sansa tried as discretely as possible to disentangle herself from him and gave him a small smile.  
“I’ve missed you too Petyr,” she replied as sweetly as she could.  
“Come sit down here by me,” he said, gesturing to a leather divan in a corner of the lounge room. 

 

Once she had settled pulling her skirt down as far as she could and cursing internally that she hadn’t had time to go home from the restaurant first and change into jeans, he sat down as close as he could next to her, their knees touching.  
“You look as beautiful as ever, no more so. You look happy. Happier than I have seen you in a long time,” he stated.  
“Thank you,” she replied, a little nervous about where all this was leading.  
“And to what can we attribute this happiness. Or perhaps to whom?” he asked slyly, his eyes narrowed.  
Sansa felt an unwelcome flush to her cheeks but tried to compose herself under his withering glare.  
“Um. I guess it’s my new job and I’m meeting new people, making friends, starting to settle in. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt like I belong somewhere.”  
“Yes well, you seemed to be enjoying yourself at the restaurant last night. Your employer looks to be particularly pleased with you. He hardly took his eyes off you all night.”  
Sansa stiffened and struggled to reply. She needed to throw Petyr off the scent.  
“Actually, you nearly cost me my job. He thought I was being inappropriate with you.”  
“If only,” Petyr smirked as he reached over to lay a hand on her knee, his silver rings cold against her warm skin.

 

Sansa stared at his hand as it began to squeeze and massage her knee. Slowly his long fingers started to trail up the bare skin of her thigh. With a gasp she shot from the divan and moved away from him.  
“Petyr! What are you doing,” she stuttered.  
In the past when she had lived with him, he had often found excuses to touch her but he had never been quite so brazen before. Usually he would stroke her hair or rub her shoulder or her back to comfort her after a distressing dream or during her frequent bouts of depression. Sometimes he would steal a kiss but they were always reserved, chaste. This felt altogether different. Petyr stood and approached her slowly, cautiously.  
“Don’t run from me Sansa. Not from me. These people, these new friends of yours: they don’t care for you as I do, as I always have. Don’t push me away. I am your only real friend in this world. Have I not proven that to you time and time again? I would do anything for you. Anything.”  
To her dismay, she knew that he was right. She needed him. He had saved her before. He would save her again, should the need ever arise, and it almost certainly would. She was grateful to him, a small part of her even cared for him in a way, but she knew that his love was a toxic love that destroyed what it touched, born as it was from a lifetime of disappointment and rejection.

 

Having closed the gap between them he lay his hand on her shoulder and leant in to kiss her, his eyes searing into her. Mesmerised by his smouldering gaze and overwhelmed by the closeness of his body to hers she allowed the contact but after a time gently broke the kiss.  
“Petyr. No. Don’t,” she said firmly, as she pulled away from him. With a sigh halfway between frustration and resignation Petyr dropped his hands from her and stepped back breaking their contact. His eyes were darkened and his breathing deep as he ran his fingers through the greying hair at his temples.

 

“Forgive me my dear. It would appear that I have missed you rather more than you have missed me. But of course I imagine you have been rather busy of late or is it that you prefer the company of Baratheon these days. It is difficult to credit given the cold fish that he is. You could do better Sansa, so much better.”  
“He is my employer, Petyr, nothing more,” she replied sternly as she desperately tried to change the subject and pacify him.  
“I don’t want to waste our time together talking about him. Was there any particular reason you wanted to see me tonight?”  
Petyr eyed her suspiciously and then gestured for her to sit back down on the divan. He noticed her reticence and took her gently by the elbow and settled her down with him; this time he maintained a more discrete distance between them.  
“Yes, there is another matter. I am afraid it is rather upsetting news.”  
Sansa stared at him wide-eyed.  
“Is it Ramsay?” she asked, her voice trembling.  
“Yes. My agents have confirmed that one of his men has been spotted here in King’s Landing. It is only a matter of time before you are tracked down. We must get you out of here as soon as possible.”

 

“Oh my God,” she cried, as she began to sob in terror.  
Petyr rubbed his hands over her upper arms soothingly.  
“Don’t be afraid Sansa. You are safe with me. I will always protect you. It will be alright.”  
“It’s never going to be alright Petyr. When will this ever end? I can’t start over again. I can’t be alone again. It’s not fair,” she cried.  
Petyr brought her close for a warm embrace. This time she did not resist, needing his reassurances, the comfort of his arms around her, her only real friend. The long fingers of one hand stroked soothingly through her hair.  
“You will not be alone. This time I am coming with you.”  
Sansa stared at him incredulously.  
“What? You can’t do that. Your life, your business interests are here now. Where would we go?”  
“Dorne. In the hills of the hinterland of Water Gardens – I have rented a private villa there. It is very secluded - we have to keep a low profile, just in case. We will have 24/7 security and a couple of support staff on hand.  
Sansa felt a frisson of fear as she contemplated being alone with him but at least there would be others present at the villa. 

 

“I have already made all of the arrangements. Olyvar will look after the businesses in my absence. It would not be forever dearest. Only long enough for me to arrange for the Bolton bastard to be neutralised once and for all.”  
“What do you mean – are you going to kill him, Petyr?” she gasped.  
“The less I tell you the better. Just know that eventually he will no longer be a factor in your life. He is resourceful and clever though so it could take some time.”  
“You would do this for me?” she asked tremulously.  
“As I have said many times, I would do anything for you.”

 

Sansa threw her arms around him and hugged him in a spontaneous embrace of gratitude and then remembering herself broke away from him.  
“Thank you Petyr. I don’t know how I can ever repay you for what you have done for me and what you are offering to do for me now.”  
Petyr looked as though he was going to respond with a suggestion and Sansa had a fairly good idea what that might be. He was a master at hiding his innermost thoughts but not good enough on this occasion. He could not quite mask the lust that still lurked in his eyes.

 

“I have some last minute business that I need to tie up so we will not be leaving until Sunday morning. I will pick you up at 9am. Our flight leaves at 11.30am. I suggest that you lay low until then. I have a set of new identity papers and a passport for you from my contact in Braavos. We will be travelling as Mr Stephen and Mrs Rebecca Symons. Don’t bother with your cell phone. There is no cell or internet coverage where we are going and we should refrain from making any unnecessary communications until we get there.”  
Petyr moved closer to her and ran his hand through Sansa’s hair.  
“And wear the black wig – the one that matches with the photo in your Alayne Stone passport. There was no time to organise a set of new photos.”  
“I will. Don’t worry. I have to go now Petyr,” she stated firmly. “Thank you again and I will see you on Sunday morning.”  
Petyr dropped his hand from her hair and regarded her with an unreadable expression.  
“Let me see you out. I will have my driver take you home.”

 

Petyr picked up the phone and made the necessary arrangements before leading her down the staircase and through the club. As she walked she smiled and nodded at Ros, the bar manager, who smiled politely in return before heading for the exit. As they approached the waiting BMW, Petyr gently grasped her elbow and turned her to face him.  
“I know that you are scared right now. But you don’t need to be. I will protect you as I always have. You have my word. Try to think of this as a holiday. Perhaps you can even try to have a good time. Dorne is a very beautiful romantic place. I know that I am not the one you would like to picture yourself with there but I will do my best to make your stay tolerable.”

 

Sansa was no longer the little naïve girl she once was. She knew it was a manipulation and that he was taking advantage of her sensitive nature but she still couldn’t help but feel a stab of pity for the man. She knew he was lonely. He had no family; no real friends despite surrounding himself with people through his various business interests. She knew what it was to be truly alone in the world so she felt for him in that moment.  
“I’m sure once I get there and I know we’re safe that I will relax a little more. I really am very grateful Petyr.”  
Steeling herself she leaned in to kiss him quickly and chastely on the cheek as a further show of gratitude. Petyr moved his face at the last moment, their lips making contact. He wove his arms around her and crushed her to him. She allowed him to deepen the kiss for a moment and then pushed at his shoulders firmly to disengage from him.  
“Good night Petyr.”  
She heard a sigh as he turned from her and walked back towards the club entrance.  
“Good night my love.”


	12. Chapter 12

Tap. Tap. TAP!  
“What the blazes…little bird, what are you doing?” he whispered angrily after he had opened his kitchen window enough to poke his head outside.  
She lowered her arm and dropped the small stone she had intended to hurl at his window.  
“I’m sorry Mr Clegane. I wanted to speak to you and I couldn’t think of any other way of getting your attention without waking up my family.”  
“I can’t do this Sansa. Your father would skin me alive if he saw me talking to you.”  
She knew he was serious now as he rarely called her Sansa, preferring his usual nickname for her.  
“Please, it’s my Name Day today.”  
“I know,” he replied.  
“I’m twelve today.”  
“I know.”  
“I’ve missed you,” she said in a small voice. “Won’t you come out and talk to me?”

 

He sighed and looked at her sadly, shaking his head and retracting it, reaching for the window to close it.  
Sansa made her decision.  
“I’m coming over there,” she stated firmly as she began to clamber rather ungraciously over the fence, her long arms and legs flailing everywhere making her look like a spider skittering over a hot frying pan. Arya with her small compact form and seemingly limitless sense of daring was definitely better at this sort of thing than she was. At least she was wearing jeans and a t-shirt today and not a dress which did make things a little easier.  
“No! No! Don’t you fucking dare!” he hissed at her while waving his hands in desperation.

 

His face disappeared from the window and his back door opened just as she jumped down into his yard. Her ankle twisted painfully underneath her as she landed and emitted a loud yelp. At first he had looked thunderous as he appeared in the yard but when he noticed her face contort in pain his expression softened, a look of concern in his eyes.  
“Shit. Did you hurt yourself?” he asked as he held her up by her arm.  
“A little,” she admitted as she tried to put weight on the injured limb and winced.  
He wove his arm around her waist. She startled at his contact and the proximity of his large muscled form to her much smaller one. She had never been so close to him before without the fence separating them and felt slightly intimidated now that their bodies were actually touching. However she knew in her heart that he would never hurt her so she leaned into him to take the weight off her injured ankle. She could feel the strong muscles of his arm working to support her and could smell the musk of his skin.

 

“I’ll help you get to your front door, but then I’m gone. What you tell your parents is up to you. Just leave me the hell out of it,” he growled as he led her inside his house.   
The kitchen was small but clean and well organised. As they moved further into the house the story was much the same. Neat, everything in its place but devoid of any small personal touches. Clinical. It was the house of a man who lived very much alone and who desired to leave no trace of himself when he left the world.  
“Please don’t be angry with me, Mr Clegane.”  
He sighed.   
“I’m not angry with you, little bird, just the situation.”  
“Ow, ow!” she cried. “Please can’t I sit down - just for a minute?”  
He exhaled loudly in frustration and led her to a large leather couch in the lounge room. He lowered her down and knelt down to untie the shoelaces of her shoe, gently removing her shoe and her sock. She tried not to let it show but it hurt – a lot. She couldn’t help a little whine that escaped her throat.  
“Sorry,” he said. “I’m just going to manipulate it a bit just to check it’s not fractured. It might hurt.”  
“Okay,” she said. “I trust you.”

 

He glanced up at her and gave her a strange look before returning his attention to her ankle.  
He held her leg in one hand and gingerly took hold of her foot in the other. She could feel his rough callouses against the soft skin of her instep as he gently moved her foot backwards and forwards and rotated it slowly.  
She tensed and hissed at the discomfort.  
“I don’t think it’s broken. It’s just badly sprained and it’s starting to swell. Wait here, I’ll get something that will help.”   
He returned some minutes later with a bag of frozen peas wrapped in a tea towel. He swung her legs up onto the couch and placed a throw cushion underneath to elevate them, the peas settled around her swollen ankle. 

 

“Don’t move. I’m going to go and get your parents now. I just hope your father doesn’t knock my block off,” he said as he started to move away from her.  
She reached out and grabbed his massive hand in her small one in a vice like grip. He looked down at her hand and frowned.  
“No, please. Don’t go. I’m here now. Won’t you at least spend a few minutes talking to me.”  
“It’s not a good idea, Sansa,” he said as he tried to pull away.  
“Please?” she said, her eyes large and pleading.  
He stood for some time, seemingly torn, before he pulled over an ottoman and sat down in front of her.  
“You are very difficult to say ‘no’ to, little bird.”  
“I know. Dad tells me that all the time.”  
“You have him wrapped well and truly around your little finger.”  
“Does that mean I have you wrapped around my finger too,” she asked cheekily, grinning at him.  
“Without a shadow of a doubt,” he replied. 

 

“So, you haven’t said. Have you missed me too?” she asked.  
“I think you know the answer to that question,” he hedged.  
“I think you HAVE missed me. I’ve tried to come out every Saturday morning to sing to you but I can’t always make it.”  
He looked at her warmly.  
“I know. I’ve heard you. From my kitchen window.”  
“I wish Mom and Dad would quit being so sore at you. You didn’t do anything wrong. We are friends. And it’s not fair that they won’t let us talk to each other.  
He took one of her hands in his and gazed at her, his brow furrowed.  
“Sansa. We can’t really be friends. You are a twelve year old girl and I am a thirty three year old man.”  
“Why does that even matter? I don’t care. I like you. It doesn’t matter how old you are,” she replied sincerely.  
“It does matter in the eyes of the world, little bird,” he said sadly.

 

He was so close to her now and she felt so warm and safe with him that she felt compelled to get even closer to him. Suddenly she flung her arms around him and embraced him, her cheek rubbing affectionately against the scarred side of his face. He went completely rigid in her arms and his breathing hitched but he did not pull away. Gradually he started to relax against her and his breathing calmed. She sang softly into his ear.

 

Little sparrow, little sparrow  
Precious fragile little thing  
Little sparrow, little sparrow  
Flies so high and feels no pain *

 

Sansa felt a warm wet tear that was not her own trickle down her cheek and throat before he stood abruptly and left the room. He never uttered a word, the front door slamming noisily behind him. Ten minutes later he returned with her furious parents in tow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Song and Lyrics, Dolly Parton, 2001


	13. Chapter 13

Stannis swirled his snifter of Remy Martin Louis XIII cognac lazily in his hand while conversing with his business associates after enjoying an excellent meal of venison. Several of the men had stepped outside to enjoy the crisp night air and to puff their lungs out on expensive cigars. Stannis could not abide smoking and rarely drank, not enjoying the subsequent loss of control, but for some reason he had felt expansive and relaxed this particular night and felt that he couldn’t be castigated for this small indulgence. Just this once, especially as he had just managed to stitch up a very lucrative business merger. 

 

Suddenly boisterous laughing approached the table as the cigar smokers returned, led by Oberyn Martell. The man was in a buoyant mood. He had previously confided in Stannis that as much as he enjoyed the shenanigans of King’s Landing, the tropical delights of Dorne beckoned. As part of the business merger secured earlier in the night he would be returning to oversee the leadership transition of Dorne Steel Holdings Incorporated; he was virtually champing at the bit. Usually Stannis encouraged enthusiasm for one’s work but he found Oberyn’s unrelenting effusiveness rather irritating.

 

Taking his seat Oberyn grinned at him and leaned close to whisper confidentially in his ear.  
“Well, well. Our little jewel is full of surprises.”  
Stannis stared at him perplexed.  
“What are you talking about Oberyn?”  
“Your delightful Miss Stone. I wouldn’t have picked her as frequenting such an ‘interesting’ place as that run by Littlefinger.”  
“You saw her? His club is several blocks from here.”  
“Yes, it is a pleasant evening; we decided to go for a stroll. We saw her from across the road. Baelish was taking her to a car waiting outside.”  
“Ah. She must have been visiting with him. He is her uncle,” Stannis explained.

 

To his surprise Oberyn laughed heartily.  
“What? What’s so funny,” Stannis asked frowning.  
“Forgive me Stannis. But are you certain? I have never seen a niece bid her uncle goodnight in quite the way she did him. Oh well, perhaps things are done slightly differently here in King’s Landing,” he japed.  
Stannis felt an unwelcome flush to his face as he straightened and scowled intensely at the man.  
“Exactly what did you see?” he asked, his voice hard and cold as steel.  
“A very….friendly kiss, an embrace. What a shame. Such a lovely precious young thing attracted to an old reprobate such as him. Such a waste,” Oberyn lamented.  
Stannis swept his hand through his hair and scratched agitatedly at his chin.  
“Could you have been mistaken?”  
“I do not believe so. She was the one who kissed him although in the end he did appear a little more enthusiastic than she, it must be said. Do you think –”  
“This subject is becoming tiresome,” snapped Stannis. “There must be something more interesting to talk about, don’t you think?”  
“If there is, then I don’t know what it is,” Oberyn smirked.  
“For fucks sake,” Stannis cursed internally. 

 

He was so discombobulated by the whole scenario that he nearly totalled his car on the ride home in the haze of his confusion and hurt. Did Oberyn get it all wrong? Was it merely a chaste kiss between relatives? Oberyn loved discussing other people's assignations and was prone to embellishment but on this occasion he had other witnesses with him who confirmed what he saw. Had she lied about the fact that they were uncle and niece? It seemed like a strange fabrication. If it was a real kiss between lovers then why had Alayne been kissing Baelish of all people? It did not seem plausible that someone as young and sweet as her could be attracted to someone so much older and of such dubious reputation and conduct. But then again some women are attracted to very bad men and he had to admit begrudgingly that Baelish was far from an ugly specimen and looked more youthful than his years. 

 

Then he remembered Oberyn had said that Baelish had been keener on the kiss than she. Was it possible that he was forcing her, taking advantage of her in some way? His hands tightened on the steering wheel in outrage at the idea. Then again, there could have been any number of reasons why she didn’t return his ardour on that particular occasion. Another possibility occurred to him: was her approach to Stannis part of some long term scheme concocted between two lovers to eventually get hold of his money? He didn’t think she had the guile for such mummery but he had been proven wrong before where women were concerned. He just didn’t know about any of it. He desperately wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt but his crushing insecurity and previous negative experiences with women fought hard against it. 

 

He felt a headache coming on, whether from the constant mental images of the woman he had started to care for kissing another man or from the alcohol he had imbibed to which he was unaccustomed he could not say. Cruising into his driveway and killing the engine he leant his head on the steering wheel and exhaled noisily. He contemplated driving to Alayne’s apartment and confronting her, but what would he say?  
“Just how long have you been fucking your uncle?”  
In his current state of mind it would not end well and if she was somehow innocent in all of this he would destroy any chance he had with her by assailing her with unfounded accusations and a return of his brutish behaviour. He needed to sleep on it but he would not let matters lie entirely. He withdrew his cell from his jacket pocket.

 

“Hi Davos. I apologise for the lateness of the call….No nothing is wrong. I’m just a little tired. Business meeting ran late, you know how it is. Listen, the reason I called is I have an assignment for you. I need you to mobilise your team and find out whatever you can about Petyr Baelish and his life in the Vale before he came to King’s Landing. Specifically any details you can dig up about his family by marriage and any links to Alayne Stone….I’ll explain later. I need this information as soon as possible. It is critical. Good night. And Davos…. thank you.”


	14. Chapter 14

Alayne sat in her bra and panties at her dresser mirror regarding her reflection critically. After much deliberation she had decided to ignore Petyr’s advice to lay low until their departure and had determined to attend Robert Baratheon’s Name Day celebration with Stannis. After all, he was picking her up and it was a private party. There really was minimal if any risk. She did not know what the future held: how long she would be forced to hide out in Dorne or whether there was a possibility she might never return. She would at least give herself this one night to be with this man who she felt so inextricably drawn to. 

 

What would she tell him? She needed to keep the door open for when or if she returned so she must give some sort of explanation for her imminent disappearance. A family emergency in the North was the best she could come up with. She winced at the reality of potentially starting a relationship with Stannis based on a deception but then her whole life was nothing but a lie – a cleverly crafted elaborate charade. Anyway, she realised she was getting a bit ahead of herself. This was just one date, after all: who knew where it would lead, if it led anywhere at all.

 

She pulled and fussed at strands of her hair that hung from her elaborate up do. She wore an amethyst shade of eyeshadow that brought out the azure of her eyes; her cheekbones were accentuated with a light blush and her lips pouted in a true red shade of lipstick. Satisfied with her makeup she turned from the dresser mirror and reached for her evening gown stepping into it and pulling up the zip at the back. Turning once again she surveyed herself in the mirror to check on the fit of the dress. The skin tight long sleeved bodice was crafted with nude mesh and a black lace overlay with a plunging neckline. The full length flowing satin skirt cascaded down from her tiny waist in a river of black; a high front split revealed her long shapely legs and small feet clad in impossibly high Louboutins. She was not inclined to vanity - a legacy from her mother- but she did think that the ensemble highlighted her figure and complemented the shade of her hair and pale skin quite effectively. 

 

Just then the doorbell rang.  
He’s a bit early, she thought, but then that would seem to fit with his character. She smiled to herself.   
Steeling herself and taking a deep breath she pulled the door open.  
“Petyr! What are you doing here?” she exclaimed in shock.  
“Is that any way to greet your Uncle my dear?”  
Petyr’s smirk faded as he took in her appearance.  
“Going somewhere Sansa?” he asked, his voice laden with menacing undercurrents.  
Sansa bit at her bottom lip and shifted nervously from foot to foot.  
“Yes. I’m going to Robert Baratheon’s Name Day party.”  
Petyr’s eyes narrowed to slits and his lips thinned. He moved as though to enter the apartment but Sansa stood steadfastly blocking the way. His eyes darkened.

 

“I see. So you decided to ignore my advice and parade around town in a rather…. conspicuous outfit knowing that Ramsay’s men are hunting you down as we speak. Do they sound like the actions of a smart woman, Sansa? A woman who would perhaps like to survive to see tomorrow.”  
“You’re being dramatic Petyr. No one is going to see me. I’m being escorted from here straight to the party and it is a private affair. There’s no risk, no danger.”  
“Ahh. And who would this escort happen to be, I wonder? None other than the cold fish I wager.”  
Although he had obviously tried he couldn’t quite manage to mask a hint of jealousy that crept into his voice.  
“His name is Stannis,” she replied exasperatedly. “And I will have you know that he is far from being a cold fish.”  
Sansa knew she was treading on thin ice but Petyr had angered her with his possessiveness and his constant jabs at Stannis.  
Petyr chuckled darkly. This discomfited her more than the prospect of him yelling at her, not that she had ever heard the man yell – he had way too much control for that.

 

“And you did all of this, for him?” Petyr asked incredulously as he reached out to twine a strand of her hair around his forefinger, his other hand sliding up and down her arm.   
Sansa shivered at the contact and took a step away from him. There was a fleeting look of hurt in his eyes but it disappeared in an instant.  
“Why are you here Petyr?”  
He turned from her to pick up a travel bag from behind him on the floor outside.  
“I brought you some clothing items to take on our trip. The weather in Dorne will be temperate, much hotter than you are accustomed to. I wasn’t sure you would have enough suitable attire.”  
Sansa felt her anger dissipate slightly.  
“Oh, I see. That was very thoughtful. Thank you,” she replied politely.  
“I did not select the items. Ros did the shopping. I hope they are correct in the sizing but I trust her judgement.”  
“Please thank her for me, won’t you?” she requested.  
“Of course. Now, give your old uncle a good night kiss and then I will take my leave.”  
Sansa leant in to kiss him chastely on the cheek but he moved more quickly and captured her lips with his. His arms wove around her waist and pulled her close, his thumbs rubbing at the small of her back. She allowed the kiss but remained tense in his arms and drew away as soon as Petyr stopped to catch his breath.  
“Good Night Petyr.”  
“Good night Sansa,” he replied as he turned and walked away. He stopped and faced her one last time.   
“You look very beautiful tonight, my dear,” he murmured as he finally took his leave. 

 

Sansa stepped inside, closed the door and exhaled in relief. She picked up the bag emptying its contents on to her sofa.   
Oh my God, what is this?  
As she sorted through the clothes she was dismayed at how short and revealing everything was. She knew that Ros liked to dress rather provocatively but this was something else entirely. She did not doubt that Petyr had a hand in it. Very brief printed shorts that looked like they would barely cover her arse cheeks, a barely there denim skirt, half a dozen thin semi sheer revealing tops, a tiny itsy bitsy bikini, a short crocheted cover up (although cover up was a complete misnomer in this case), the list went on. At the bottom of the pile she found a white skimpy strapped lacy silk chemise only long enough to reach down to the very tops of her thighs. She found herself hit by a wave of nausea as she contemplated wearing these items alone, with him, in an isolated villa. How was she going to get through this ordeal? 

 

With trembling hands she shoved the clothing back in the bag and carried it back into her bedroom. As she passed the mirror she checked on her lipstick and cursed as she noticed that it had smudged from Petyr’s kiss. She had only just managed to rectify it when there was another ring of the doorbell. She now felt decidedly shaky as she approached the door. When she opened it her breath caught in her throat as she appraised the man in front of her. His fitted immaculately tailored tuxedo hugged his sculpted manly physique – his wide shoulders, his strong chest, his narrow hips. But it was his eyes that captured her at that moment, gazing as they were at her with an undisguised intensity.  
“Hi Stannis,” she stammered eventually, gifting him a small tremulous smile.  
“Alayne. You look….stunning,” he replied as he seemed to struggle for words.  
Sansa blushed and stepped aside to allow him entry.

 

Once she closed the door and turned to face him she was struck by the tension in his body. While he wasn’t scowling it was evident that he wasn’t relaxed either; he appeared to be grinding his teeth and his eyes spoke of some inner turmoil. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides.  
“Stannis, is something the matter?” she asked worriedly.  
Instead of answering her he swiftly closed the distance between them and cradled the side of her face with one hand while resting his hand on her hip. He tilted his head and brought his lips to hers. She felt a jolt of pleasure pass through her whole body at the contact and pressed herself closer to him. Stannis moaned against her lips as her breasts pushed against his chest and the bulge in his pants made contact with her thigh. She gasped as she felt him harden against her and closed her eyes, her breaths quickening. His lips moved more urgently against hers, his tongue swiping at her bottom lip and seeking entry. She felt a characteristic panic building up inside her as her arousal built.

 

“Stannis,” she breathed. “We need to stop. The party.”  
Reluctantly he pulled away from her and stared intently into her eyes. He exhaled loudly and rather surprisingly he suddenly smiled, running his hand through his hair.  
“I’ve never done that before in my life,” he admitted.  
“What? Kissed a woman or smiled?” she japed.  
He grunted in an approximation of a laugh and gave her an amused look.  
“Kissed a woman that I hardly know in quite that manner,” he clarified. “And as for smiling - you may have noticed I am not a particularly convivial man.”   
“That’s a pity. You are very handsome when you smile,” she replied.  
“Are you flirting with me, Miss Stone?” He feigned a stern tone.  
“Perhaps Mr Baratheon. Is it working?”  
“Perhaps Miss Stone. Perhaps. Come on or we’re going to be fashionably late. I cannot abide lateness.”  
Sansa giggled. “I don’t know how I knew that about you, but I did.”  
“Less cheek from you young lady,” he admonished her as he steered her out the door, his hand resting gently on the small of her back.


	15. Chapter 15

When Alayne opened the door to her apartment Stannis felt as though the wind had been knocked right out of him. The vision of other worldly beauty that stood before him was quite literally staggering. He was sure he felt his heart stop for an instant as his eyes swept over her perfect form. Her long slender neck, the gentle swell of her breasts, her small waist, the curve of her hips, and those legs! But what affected him most profoundly was her beautiful big cerulean eyes, eyes that gazed back at him with what looked suspiciously like desire. But that couldn’t be right, could it? He knew he probably presented as well as could be expected in his formal attire and he had spent an inordinate amount of time on his grooming but what could a spectacular, much younger woman like her possibly see in him? It baffled him. 

 

He knew that he should have kept his distance, emotionally as well as physically. He had done nothing since Oberyn Martell’s revelations other than obsess over what the relationship between Alayne and Baelish could possibly be and whether she was merely an opportunist baiting her hook and waiting for him to bite. But when she looked at him like that with those plump sensual lips slightly parted, with that perfect soft womanly body begging to be caressed, he felt his resolve waiver; his suspicions and his doubts somehow didn’t matter so much anymore. The prospect of a touch, a kiss, the press of her supple body against his all of a sudden meant so much more. 

 

He was astonished and somewhat perturbed by her effect on him. He was not an overly lustful man; well in any case, not like Robert. But then nobody was quite like Robert. He certainly had wants and needs like any man but he liked to think that he comported himself like a gentleman and could control his urges if the situation demanded it. But with her he felt like some sort of callow, horny youth, completely at the mercy of his cock. Just a look from her was enough to get him hard to the point that he longed to scoop her up in his arms and throw her on her bed and bury himself deep inside her. That was Robert; it wasn’t him. What the fuck was she doing to him?

 

Unfortunately for him that was not the limit of her appeal. He had never met a young woman who had challenged him the way she had. She was whip smart, strong and yet vulnerable, sassy, sensitive and kind. It was a combination of qualities that he had never encountered in another woman before and he knew he did not have the weapons available in his arsenal to fight against her allure. He knew that if she as much as curled her finger and beckoned him to her bed he would be unable to resist. 

 

And yet, something did not sit right with him. He knew that she was aroused by their contact but before it could escalate she would stop him. That in itself was not surprising. After all, they barely knew each other and he was not the kind of man who expected or who particularly appreciated a woman falling into bed at the drop of a hat. Nor was he the type of man who normally ravished a woman he barely knew. But he could not dispel the feeling that there was something more to her reticence. Her body would be so responsive at first but as signs of her growing arousal would appear she would tense and something indefinable would lurk in the depth of her eyes. It was fleeting and he could almost pretend that he had imagined it but he found that he cared about her too much to ignore the signals that she inadvertently sent him in favour of his own gratification. And yet he wanted her – oh, how he wanted her. 

 

So much about her conflicted him. Many things about her just didn’t seem to add up. She was clearly intelligent and sharp witted; so full of potential and yet according to the CV in her personnel file she had only ever held part time jobs in the hospitality industry. Despite impressive school grades she had not furthered her education after finishing high school, merely flitting from one dead end job to another. He could not understand how she lived the lifestyle she did on the wages and tips that she earned from the restaurant. The dress and shoes she wore this evening alone would chew through weeks’ worth of wages. Even if she had several such jobs it would not have been enough to finance the luxury apartment she lived in and pay for other living expenses. King’s Landing was not a cheap place to live by any stretch of the imagination and she resided in one of the wealthiest pockets. He also agreed with Davos’s assessment of her apartment – it did not strike him as a space that was occupied by a young woman. There were no little personal touches; it looked more like a bachelor pad. Did it in fact belong to Littlefinger? Was he subsidising her lifestyle?

 

Taking stock, he knew that the wise course of action would have been to walk away from her. That is precisely what the old Stannis would have done. But for better or worse he was no longer the old Stannis. She had seen to that. He felt powerless under the assault of her flashing blue eyes, the sing song of her sweet voice, the light tinkle of her laughter. No, he could not just walk away.  
Fuck. Make no mistake. You are in deep shit my friend, he castigated himself.

 

As he steered her towards his black Bentley and opened the door for her, his eyes flashed downwards just as the split in her dress separated and exposed her thigh as she settled into the passenger seat. He felt a twitch at his groin as he imagined searing a trail of licks and kisses along the soft skin of her inner thigh as he gradually neared her sex. The mental image did nothing to relieve him of the insistent ache at his groin. He lifted his eyes to her face half expecting to see the parted lips of a practised seductress but instead, her face was flushed, her breathing rapid, her eyes unable to meet his as she hastily readjusted her dress. 

 

He cleared his throat awkwardly and closed the door walking around to the driver’s side of the car, hastily and hopefully surreptitiously readjusting himself to give himself some relief from the discomfort of the raging hard-on he was currently sporting. He prayed she would not notice as he lowered himself into the driver’s seat. Thankfully she still appeared a little flustered and was staring out the side window, steadfastly avoiding his gaze allowing him time to get himself under some sort of control. He thought that unless he wanted a tense and silent twenty minute drive to Robert’s mansion he would need to break the ice but words escaped him. There was still too much blood being diverted to his nether regions, not nearly enough to his brain to form coherent thoughts. He breathed an internal sigh of relief when she spoke first.

 

“I have been looking forward to meeting your family tonight, Stannis.”  
Stannis rumbled deep in his chest.   
“I will be sure to remind you that you said that after you’ve actually met them. They can be quite a handful.”  
Sansa giggled. He normally found such childish vocalisations irritating but he enjoyed hearing them from her.  
“A handful like you, you mean?”  
He glanced at her with his lips pursed in mock indignation.  
“You came across as such a polite and respectful young lady when we first met. What happened to her?”  
“Maybe you bring out the worst in me,” she joked.  
“If that is the worst you have to offer then I don’t believe I will have too many complaints. At least you’re not calling me an insufferable arse anymore,” he added.  
“But in fairness, you were being an insufferable arse. Surely you can’t criticise me for telling the truth,” she responded with a cheeky smile.  
“You’re right. I will never criticise you for telling me the truth.”  
Stannis glanced at her and their eyes met briefly. Her smile had faded and she blushed and turned away from him, her discomfiture obvious. But why she should react that way in the context of their light hearted banter, he couldn’t fathom. 

 

“I should give you a bit of a run down on the family, just so you’re prepared.”  
“You’re starting to scare me Stannis,” she replied a little tensely.  
“I don’t mean to. But as I said they can be a handful. Forewarned is forearmed. Just keep in mind that you will have friends in the room. Loras, Davos and Marya will be there. Robert and Renly will love you and I….I will be there too, obviously,” he finished lamely.  
Sansa stared at him and her breath hitched slightly before she shifted her gaze to the road. She did not respond so Stannis continued.  
“Renly is harmless enough and so wrapped up in Loras that he hasn’t the energy to create too much mischief at the moment but if he decides to tease you he will do it mercilessly. Be prepared to cry. Robert, on the other hand….well Robert is Robert. A force of nature. He’s loud and obnoxious and completely inappropriate but underneath it all he is a big softie.”  
Sansa giggled. “He sounds wonderful. Your brothers sound so different to you. Are you sure you weren’t swapped at birth in the hospital?”  
She held her breath and chewed on her bottom lip perhaps thinking she had insulted him. However he only huffed in amusement.  
“I have come to the same conclusion myself more than once, I assure you.”  
Sansa relaxed and smiled at him.

 

“My little girl Shireen will be there.”  
“Oh how wonderful! It will be lovely to meet her. How old is she Stannis?”  
“Eight going on Twenty. I think she will really like you Alayne. She’s not a difficult child and very friendly although sometimes a bit shy at first. Robert was adamant that his niece attend his party and of course I look forward to seeing her. But unfortunately Shireen and her mother are a package deal. My ex-wife Selyse will also be there.”  
“You don’t sound very excited about that prospect.”  
“Umm. No. Our last few meetings have been somewhat…strained. She can be a very challenging woman.”  
“You can be a very challenging man,” she reminded him lightly.  
“True enough, although the decision to end our marriage was ultimately hers, not mine, and yet for some unfathomable reason she cannot stand to see me with other women.”  
“Jealousy is a strange affliction,” Sansa mused as she glanced quickly at him.  
“Indeed,” replied Stannis, “and a dangerous one.” 

 

“And then we come to the Lannisters, Cersei and Joffrey Lannister to be precise. Cersei is Robert’s ex-wife.”  
“So, is Joffrey Robert’s son?”  
“Emotionally yes, biologically no. That is the reason why Cersei and Robert are no longer together. Cersei passed the boy off as Robert’s son for fifteen years. By a quirk of fate Joffrey needed a blood transfusion after being involved in a car accident and due to an incompatibility in the blood types it was determined that Robert could not possibly be the father.”  
“Poor Robert,” Sansa exclaimed. “That must have been devastating for him.”  
“Yes,” Stannis agreed. “It hit him hard but he has come to terms with it now. He still regards Joffrey as his son.”

 

“What is Joffrey like?”  
Stannis was reluctant to answer.  
“God help me. I think of him as my nephew but there is something about that boy that doesn’t sit quite right with me. He’s spoiled, no doubt, but there’s something else. I don’t know what it is. I don’t actually have anything concrete to base it on, it’s just a feeling.”  
“And how do Robert and Cersei get on? Is it like with you and your ex-wife?”  
“No. Miraculously they appear to be able to tolerate each other. Although how anyone can put up with that woman is beyond me.”  
“Oh, is she that bad then?” Sansa asked worriedly.  
“Cersei is…. Cersei, I think you could say is….Oh fuck it! She is a heinous bitch.”  
“Stannis!” Sansa exclaimed clapping her hand to her mouth but regarding him with an amused twinkle in her eye.  
“Sorry, but don’t criticise me for telling the truth.”  
Sansa laughed loudly. He loved her laugh.

 

“Thank you for sharing all of this with me, Stannis. I don’t really know what to expect but one thing I do know is that it won’t be boring.”  
“No, never that,” he assured her.  
“It’s good to get the heads up but now I feel a little nervous. Do you think they’ll like me?” she asked shyly.  
Stannis reached across and grasped her hand bringing her fingers to his lips, brushing across them softly.  
“My family is many things but they are not blind and stupid. They would have to be to not like you. It’s impossible not to like you.”  
Sansa blushed lightly and smiled, her gaze shifting to the side window. She did not respond other than to give Stannis’s hand a slight squeeze before releasing it.


	16. Chapter 16

Sansa felt a mixture of relief and trepidation as she stepped from the car. The physical and emotional build up from their kiss inside her apartment had, she thought, been dissipated somewhat by the light hearted banter that had occurred right afterwards. But she had been mistaken. As he had walked her to the car and opened the door for her she had looked downwards and sideways as she sat and noticed a very pronounced bulge in Stannis’s tuxedo pants. He was staring fixedly at her with a rather lustful expression. She had almost gasped but instead swallowed thickly and then, following the line of his gaze, noticed that her thigh was almost completely exposed. 

 

She felt a frisson of fear streak up her spine. Would he try to touch her? Would he climb on top of her and try to take her? She had felt a furious blush assault her cheeks and had tried to cover herself up as quickly as she possibly could. But he had done nothing except for appearing somewhat mortified, closing the door quickly and making his way around the car. She felt a surge of gratitude and relief as she realised that she was starting to feel safer with him. He had desperately tried to hide his erection from her; for her part she avoided looking at him as much as she could, even though, as her fear slowly dissipated, she found herself desperately wanting to take another sneaky look. While his solicitousness towards her in preparing her for his family went some way towards calming her, she still felt somewhat on edge.

 

Sansa shivered as Stannis led her inside the Baratheon mansion, but whether she did so from the warm and gentle touch of his hand at the small of her back, the coolness of the evening air or from nervous anticipation she could not say. Judging by the number of cars parked in the crescent shaped driveway it was going to be a large affair but then given Robert’s bacchanalian reputation and his ebullient manner that was to be expected. She could hear music and the sound of laughter and chatter from the other side of the main door as they approached, one voice in particular boomed louder than all else.  
“My shy and retiring brother,” Stannis commented with a sardonic smirk. “Are you ready?”  
Sansa gave him a small nervous smile and nodded.  
“Just remember I’m here with you and just be yourself. You’ll be fine.”  
“Okay,” she responded taking a deep breath.

 

“Stannis!!! Come in, come in. Oh my word, you dark horse. Who have we here?” Robert cried loudly as he led them into the main reception room.  
“Robert, this is Alayne Stone. Alayne, my older brother, Robert,” Stannis announced rather stiffly.  
“Pleased to meet you Robert. Happy Name Day,” Sansa said shyly, feeling a little overwhelmed by Robert’s large and effusive presence.  
“Absolutely enchanted my dear,” he replied as he kissed the back of her hand. He clapped Stannis rather too enthusiastically on the back and narrowed his eyes at him.  
“Well done, little brother. Well done. I didn’t think you had it in you. She is an absolute delight. However did you pull it off?”  
“Robert,” he warned.

 

“Oh relax Stan,” he huffed. “Always so uptight. How did the two of you meet? It must be quite a story.”  
“Alayne works as a server at King’s Table,” Stannis explained.  
“HA, HA, HA !!!”  
Robert laughed so loudly that practically everyone in the room turned around to stare. “Dating the help – that is so unStannis-like: it’s too funny. Oh, you’re killing me,” he wheezed as he clutched his belly.  
Stannis clenched his jaw and curled his hands into fists glaring at his brother with murderous intent. Before he could vocalise his anger Sansa interjected, placating Stannis with a light touch of her hand on his arm.  
“That is partly the truth although I think your brother is being very chivalrous in trying to spare me any undue awkwardness and is also being very modest. We met when he and Davos saved me from an attack by three men in the club district. They saved my life. Stannis is a real life hero and I feel very lucky to be on his arm tonight.”  
Both Robert and Stannis stared at her, Robert in astonishment, Stannis with pride and gratitude.  
“Well, well, I must say that is impressive little brother. Who knew you had it in you? Perhaps I have underestimated you all these years. Well done indeed,” Robert boomed enthusiastically.

 

Just then Sansa spotted Loras accompanied by another man. Judging by the facial features and the colour of the hair and eyes he must be the youngest of the Baratheon men: Renly. He was of smaller stature than either of his brothers and had an open, expressive face.  
“Alayne, this is my younger brother Renly. Renly this is Alayne who I feel sure Loras has told you of already.”  
“You are Alayne? Wow! Loras told me you were a stunner but he didn’t do you any justice. You are magnificent. Stannis you lucky bastard. You of all people? I don’t get it? How? That’s all I want to know,” Renly grinned cheekily.  
Sansa blushed hotly at the compliment. She was beginning to feel very sorry for Stannis though for being the butt of his brothers’ jokes and put downs. The tips of his ears had turned red and there were two spots of colour high on his cheeks. Sansa wove her arm around Stannis’s waist and smiled sweetly at him. Stannis stared at her with a blank expression.  
“I happen to think I’m the lucky one. Stannis is a wonderful man and I think he is very handsome. He could have his pick of any woman but he chose me.”  
“You may have been Alayne’s knight in shining armour Stannis, but this young lady has ridden fiercely into battle for you twice already tonight. I wager she will have to do so again before the night is through,” Robert chuckled.  
Stannis scowled heavily at Robert but reached for Sansa’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze in gratitude.

 

“Daddy, Daddy!”  
Stannis staggered and let out a huff of surprise as a little child missile hurled itself at him and grabbed him around his waist. Stannis, clearly caught off guard and looking a little awkward, embraced the girl gingerly.  
“It’s so good to see you Shireen. I’ve missed you.”  
“I’ve missed you too, Daddy.”  
Sansa felt the start of tears as she noticed Stannis’s adam’s apple bobbing and an intensity of emotion writ in his eyes as he looked down at his little girl. She swallowed thickly.  
“Shireen, sweety. I would like you to meet a friend of mine. Her name is Alayne.”  
Shireen looked up curiously at Sansa, her big brown eyes widening.  
“You’re pretty,” she said a bit breathlessly.  
“Thank you Shireen. You are too. That is a lovely dress you’re wearing.”  
“Mommy made it for me,” the girl stated proudly.  
“Then your Mommy is very clever. I do a little sewing myself but nothing as nice as this. I wish I could make clothes this beautiful.”

 

Shireen beamed up at her and reached out her hand.  
“Come on Alayne. Come and meet my Mommy. She’s just over there with Aunty Cersei.”  
Sansa shot Stannis an alarmed glance. Meeting with both of these women at the same time and without Stannis at her side was a daunting prospect but she knew she needed to face them head-on if she was ever going to earn respect.  
“Would you like me to come with you,” he offered.  
“No, it’s okay. You stay here and spend some time with your brothers.”  
Stannis squeezed her shoulder.  
“I’m very proud of you,” he encouraged her warmly.  
“I hope you still are by the time this night is through,” she replied with a small smile before allowing herself to be pulled away by Shireen.


	17. Chapter 17

They wove their way through groups of guests until arriving at the furthermost corner of the room. There stood perhaps one of the most intimidatingly beautiful women that Sansa had ever laid her eyes on. She was tall, willowy with long flowing blonde hair and strikingly green eyes. She wore a long fitted emerald green gown that sculpted her cleavage, tiny waist and the gentle curve of her hips. While her skin was unblemished age had begun to leave its tell-tale signs with deep laugh lines at the eyes. Despite the undisputed beauty of the woman what struck Sansa most forcibly was a hint of cruelty around the mouth and the imperious coldness of her glare. Next to her stood a shorter much slighter woman with wispy dark brown hair. She was thin to the point of emaciation, her facial features angular and severe. She wore a rather unflattering black strapped gown that did nothing but make her appear even more shrunken and undernourished. Sansa steeled herself as she approached. 

 

“Mommy, Aunty Cersei, this is Daddy’s friend Alayne. I’m going to talk to Stannis now,” announced the little girl as she ran off towards Davos, Marya and little Stannis who stood with other guests in another corner of the room.  
Both women stared at Sansa incredulously and then stared at each other. Disconcertingly, they started to grin. Cersei spoke first.  
“Daddy’s friend, Alayne,” she smirked unkindly. “Such a pretty little dove and so very… young.”  
Her tongue had curled contemptuously around the last word and flicked it out with a sneer.  
“Nice to meet you Ms Lannister,” Sansa replied coldly but politely, drawing herself up to her full height.  
“Cersei, please dear. So, tell me how long have you known Stannis? Not long I would wager.”  
“As it happens no, not long. This is our first outing together.”   
Sansa deliberately avoided using the word ‘date’.

 

“But why would you assume that to be the case?” she enquired steeling herself for what she knew in her guts would be another unkind jab at Stannis.  
“Because typically his assignations are short lived. He is hardly a scintillating conversationalist and well, can I put it this way: it is easier to seduce a horse than it is to seduce Stannis Baratheon.”  
Cersei smiled maliciously while Selyse tittered and shot Sansa a look of utter disdain. Sansa bridled; she would not allow these women to treat Stannis this way unchallenged.  
“You must be talking about a different man, Cersei. I find Stannis to be an amazing man in all respects: kind, intelligent, sensitive, warm, funny.  
Cersei laughed throatily.   
“He must have paid you a lot of money for such high praise, my little dove. Either that or you are more naïve and easy to impress than you look.”

 

Selyse saw her opening and pounced.  
“How did you even meet? Online I have no doubt. He probably made himself out to be a Calvin Klein underwear model knowing him. Must have been quite a disappointment when he showed up.”  
Sansa ignored the woman’s immature and desperate dig.  
“We met quite by accident when he and Davos helped me with a spot of trouble I found myself in while trying to get home one night. Then we met again at King’s Table where I had recently been hired as a server.”  
Selyse sneered, her voice harsh and shrewish.  
“Well that’s a new low for him. Fucking his employees. For Christ’s sake, how old are you anyway? Have you even finished grade school? Honestly that man just gets worse and worse. Next he’ll be dating someone younger than his own daughter.”

 

“That will be quite enough, Selyse.”

 

While the women had been distracted conversing amongst themselves Stannis had surreptitiously made his way over to the group and had overheard the bulk of the conversation. While the volume of his voice was lowered so as not to attract undue attention, his tone was menacing and full of barely contained rage.  
Selyse paled, her lips thinning.   
“Forgive us Stannis,” smiled Cersei not to be intimidated, “but you can’t deny that this young slip of a thing is completely different to your usual playthings. You can’t blame us for being just a little bit curious. Oh, but then I suppose you do have a predilection for redheads. How is Melisandre these days anyway?”  
Sansa shot a quizzical look at Stannis but he did not meet her eye. He trembled with ire, his eyes searing as he took a step closer to Cersei. She did not cower, steadfastly standing her ground and taking a casual sip from the glass of red wine she nestled in her hand.

 

“God help me woman, if you don’t shut your mouth this instant, I will break your wretched neck with my bare hands. Say what you want about me but I will not have you disrespect Alayne. Do you hear me, both of you,” he snarled.   
Cersei smiled serenely while Selyse fiddled nervously with a strand of her lank hair.  
“Stannis, it’s okay. Let’s just go now,” Sansa pleaded, pulling gently at his elbow. His body was strung tighter than a bow, his frame vibrating with his fury.  
With a long loud exhale Stannis relaxed slightly and wove his arm around Sansa and drew her away from the other two women.  
“Do make sure you get her home nice and early so her Mommy and Daddy can tuck her in Stannis,” Cersei added sweetly as they walked off.  
“Fuck off Cersei,” Stannis retorted loudly enough for a couple of other guests to turn in shocked curiosity.


	18. Chapter 18

“I’m so sorry Alayne. I should have seen that coming. I should never have left you alone with them.”  
“It’s alright Stannis. I’m a big girl and I can handle it. But I hated that you had to hear what they said about you.”  
Stannis led her into a hallway and opened the door to a room about halfway down on the right, pushing her gently inside. It was a large bedroom with a luxurious king size bed, complete with ensuite. He snipped the door lock.  
“Stannis, what are you doing?” she asked eyeing the bed nervously, realising how vulnerable a position she had been placed in.  
“It’s alright. I didn’t bring you here for that,” he reassured her, although he gave her a slight frown when he noticed the relieved reaction that she had tried but obviously failed to hide from him.  
“This used to be my bedroom when I lived here. I just wanted a minute alone and uninterrupted to speak with you before we go back out there,” he explained as he stroked his hands soothingly up and down her arms.

 

“The things that you have said in my defence tonight; are they really the way you feel?” he asked. Sansa thought she could detect a note of vulnerability in his voice.  
“Yes, Stannis. Every word. I… I really like you. You’re not how everyone seems to think you are – not at all. Please don’t put any stock in the things that they say.”  
“You really like me?... I –”  
Stannis searched her face, his gaze intense then brought his hand to the nape of her neck and pulled her in for a warm and gentle kiss. Sansa wove her arms around his waist to bring him closer running her hands up over his shoulder blades and the muscles of his back, deepening the kiss. Before it could intensify further Stannis broke the kiss and regarded her warmly.  
“Thank you,” he said simply.  
“What for?”  
“For being here tonight with me. And for being you. So strong, intelligent, resourceful, kind and beautiful.”

 

Sansa blushed and lowered her gaze. Stannis brought her chin up with his fingers and moved to kiss her again. Sansa applied the lightest of pressure with her hands against his chest and pulled away from him. Inadvertently her eyes rested for the briefest of moments on the bed next to them and she knew he had noticed her anxiety. She thought she detected a very quick flash of hurt in his eyes but it was so fleeting she could not be sure.  
“We really should be getting back to the party. Everyone will be wondering where we are.”  
“You’re right,” he replied.   
“But first, you might want to….I mean I seem to have… messed things up a little,” Stannis explained touching a finger to her lips.  
“Oh. Okay. I’ll just use the bathroom to do a quick touch up. Why don’t you go on out. I won’t be long.”  
“Alright. Try to stay out of trouble this time, will you?” he teased.   
“Me? Trouble? You must have the wrong girl,” she replied.

 

As Stannis left the room Sansa entered the ensuite and turned to the mirror and proceeded to fix her lipstick. A moment later she heard the door in the other room open and close.  
“Geez you’re impatient,” she laughed as she walked back into the bedroom.  
She froze and gasped as she realised that the figure in front of her was not Stannis.  
“Alayne Stone, I presume?” the slim blonde man sneered.  
“Yes….Who….Who are you?” she stuttered.  
“I am your new squeeze’s nephew. Well, sort-of-nephew.”  
“You’re Joffrey?” she asked.  
For some reason she felt an ice cold slash down her spine. He had not done anything to overtly scare her but something about him felt very wrong. She had felt this way three times before in her life and three times before there had been very good reason for it. 

 

She steeled herself and looked him squarely in his cold glassy blue eyes.  
“What are you doing here?”  
Joffrey screwed up his face in incredulity. His voice rose an octave.  
“What? You’re standing in my father’s house and you’re asking me what I’m doing here? Who the fuck are you to ask me that? You’re just some greedy slut that my boring cunt-hungry uncle dragged in off the street from what I’ve heard. Everyone here knows exactly what you are, except of course for my uncle. He never was the sharpest tool in the shed when it came to women.”  
“Wow, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” she replied a little shakily.  
“Not a fan of my mother, I gather. Well, I can’t fault you there. I can’t stand the stupid bitch either.”  
Sansa’s jaw dropped and she began to edge her way towards the door. Disconcertingly he stepped closer to her blocking the way.

 

“Please get out of my way,” she said through gritted teeth.  
“Now that’s not very friendly, Alayne. I was led to believe that you were very friendly indeed.”  
He moved a step closer to her. As she backed away in fear the backs of her legs hit the edge of the bed.  
“Yes, that’s right. That is exactly where you belong. On your back with your legs spread wide open like the money grubbing little whore you are,” he snarled as he pushed her on to the bed. She shrieked and scuttled backwards as quickly as she could. Joffrey started to climb onto the bed after her, his eyes full of lust and hate.

 

Just then the door flung open. Joffrey jumped from the bed and whirled around in shock but was not quick enough to avoid the fingers of a hand that shot out and curled around his throat and started to squeeze.  
“Stannis, no!” Sansa screamed. “Don’t! Let him go! You’re going to kill him!”  
Joffrey’s face had started to turn puce, his eyes bulging as he gasped for breath and struggled convulsively against Stannis’s vice like grip.  
“Please Stannis don’t!” she screamed as she began to cry in terror.  
His eyes snapped to her as her pleas finally registered with him. He pushed Joffrey to the ground and kicked him hard in the groin.  
Joffrey shrieked loudly clutching at his bulge, gasped and choked as he tried to breathe and finally vomited all over himself and the floor.   
“You disgusting little fucker,” Stannis raged. “If you ever as much as look at her again I will fucking end you. Got it?”  
Joffrey did not reply so Stannis reached over and grabbed him by the hair and wrenched his head around to meet his eyes.  
“I got it, I got it,” Joffrey wheezed in panic.  
Stannis pushed his head into the pile of sick on the floor and turned away from him in disgust.

 

“Come on Alayne, let’s get the hell out of here,” Stannis growled.   
He wove his arm around her and steered her on her shaking legs out of the door slamming it noisily. As they entered the main reception room the other guests began to turn and stare at them speculatively. She knew she must have looked like a frightful mess with her tear streaked face and her now slightly messed up hairdo. She spied Cersei and Selyse who both looked like cats who had swallowed canaries.  
“Stannis, what’s going on?” Davos asked worriedly as they passed.  
“Leave it Davos,” Stannis grated as he kept walking, ushering Sansa on firmly.   
Marya reached out to brush her arm in concern. Sansa sent her as reassuring a look as she could possibly muster under the circumstances. She was relieved to note that little Stannis and Shireen were sitting on the floor reading a book together in a corner of the room, completely oblivious to the drama.

 

Robert, who had been regaling Renly and Loras with tales of some of his more lurid exploits, approached as they headed for the front door.  
“Where are you two going? What’s wrong Stan? Alayne? Did something happen?”  
Stannis regarded his brother with a look of barely restrained fury.  
“Fucking Joffrey happened, Robert. It’s about time you put a leash on that rabid mutt of yours. Or better still remove him completely from the gene pool. Now get out of my way, we’re leaving.”  
“Stan, be reasonable. Don’t go,” he sighed. “We haven’t even cut the cake yet.”  
“Stick the cake up your fucking arse, Robert,” he snarled before pulling Sansa along with him, exiting the mansion and slamming the door noisily behind him.

 

“It wasn’t really Robert’s fault, Stannis,” Sansa sniffled as they walked swiftly to the car.  
“The hell it wasn’t,” he replied roughly. Then remembering himself he spoke more calmly.   
“Robert has let Joffrey get away with things for years. He always spoiled him when he thought he was the boy’s biological father – he always got exactly what he wanted on his terms. When Robert found out that Joffrey wasn’t his it was like he was trying to over-compensate. He’s never been denied anything; everything he does is beyond reproach. No, Robert has a lot to answer for where that little prick is concerned.”  
As they reached the car Stannis turned to face her. He pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear and stroked her cheek.  
“Are you alright? Did he hurt you?”  
“No, he just scared me a bit… well a lot, actually. He called me a gold digger; he said everyone at the party thought I was just with you for your money,” she muttered.  
“That’s not true sweetheart. My brothers think you are wonderful and it was obvious how taken with you Shireen was. She’s never usually that outgoing with strangers. And don’t even waste a second of time worrying about those two harridans.”  
Sansa exhaled noisily, “my God, what a night!”  
“I told you they were a bit of a handful.”

 

Sansa started to giggle, laugh and then began to weep as all of the tumultuous events of the night overwhelmed her.  
“Oh shit. Come here,” he whispered as he pulled her against his chest and she gave full vent to her heightened emotions.  
“Ssssh,” he soothed as he gently stroked her hair. Eventually she calmed and drew away from him, smiling at him weakly.  
“Will you take me away from here?” she asked tremulously  
“Come on, get in,” he replied as he opened the car door and helped her into her seat.  
“You sure know how to show a girl a good time,” she joked.  
This time Stannis’s laugh boomed almost as loudly as Robert’s. She doubted that she had ever heard a sound that she loved more.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've been very patient so here at long last is a little bit of fluffy smut :) The smut is in two parts so there will be more goodness next chapter YAY. Aren't I good to you :)

“It’s still early and we haven’t eaten. Do you want to go out for dinner?”  
“I don’t know if I’m up to being around any more people tonight Stannis,” Sansa replied regretfully.  
She was also conscious of appearing in a very public place for an extended period in case Ramsay’s men were on the prowl.  
“Sure, I understand. Straight home then?”  
Sansa thought it over. She really didn’t want to end the night just yet. It might be their last opportunity to be together.  
“No, I’ve got a better idea. It’s such a beautiful warm night, the full moon is out. Why don’t we get some fish and chips and a cold bottle of champagne and go sit on the beach? I want to be alone with you.”  
She couldn’t quite believe the words had escaped her lips. Usually the prospect of being completely alone with a man would have chilled her but she felt so protected with him. It felt right.

 

Stannis glanced at her and smiled. A real smile. She decided she would walk over burning coals to see that kind of smile from him again.  
“I haven’t been to the beach since I was a teenager."  
“You’re kidding! It’s literally five minutes away. It was one of the first things I scouted when I first moved here. When I lived in Maidenpool I used to go for a run on the beach every morning and a swim in the evening after work. I miss it.”  
“You make it sound so idyllic. All I think of is sand in my shorts, itchy salty skin and bloody sunburn.”  
“Oh God. You are such a stick in the mud. You’re not wearing shorts, you’re not going swimming and the sun isn’t out. Any more objections?”  
“Not a one. Let’s do it,” he replied, much more enthusiastically than she had anticipated.

 

After having picked up their food and champagne they drove the short distance to the beachfront. Divesting herself of her high heels Sansa stepped from the car. She was amused to note how reluctantly Stannis removed his own shoes and socks before gingerly stepping out. There were several other cars in the carpark and she could spot a few people still frolicking in the water, walking their dogs and sitting on the sand.  
“Follow me. I know of a really nice spot that very few people go to.”  
They walked for some considerable time along the beach with Stannis driving Sansa mad with constant ‘are we there yet’s’ until they finally reached a small rocky palm strewn cove. 

 

Sansa spread out the blanket that they had grabbed from the boot of the car while Stannis shrugged off his jacket and contended with the cork of the champagne bottle. Soon enough they sat with the fish and chips between them, enjoying the constant soothing lap of waves against the rocks, a gentle salt laden breeze wisping around them and susurrating through the fronds of the surrounding palms. Stannis still held the champagne bottle and was looking at it a little dubiously.  
“This is a first for me.”  
“What is? Eating fish and chips at night on the beach?” Sansa asked.  
“No. Well, yes. But I meant drinking champagne straight out of the bottle.”  
“Oh go on. Take a walk on the wild side,” she teased.  
“You first,” he said as he offered her the bottle.  
“You’re such a coward,” she grinned as she brought the bottle to her lips.  
“Cheers big ears.”

 

As she upended the bottle a little too quickly the liquid fizzed against her mouth and overflowed dribbling down her chin.  
“Oh crap. That’s really ladylike,” she giggled.  
“Here, allow me,” Stannis offered as he brought his hand to her chin and brushed over it with his thumb. He gazed at her mouth intently and brought his thumb to her bottom lip swiping at it gently. She stared at him and parted her lips slightly as her breathing became more rapid. His hand lowered to rest on her shoulder as he leaned in and brought his lips to hers softly and gently. A pang of pleasure tingled through her body at the contact. She wove her fingers through the hair at the back of Stannis’s head and pressed his mouth more firmly to hers while parting her lips. His tongue entered her mouth tentatively at first and then probed and wrestled with her tongue with increasing fervour. They broke the kiss as they both caught their breaths. Stannis pushed gently at her shoulders to lay her back on the blanket and moved their meal to the side so he could lean over her, his eyes darkened with desire. She stared up at him, her heart thumping wildly in her chest. 

 

He caught her lips in a deep and passionate kiss, their tongues exploring each other thoroughly while his hand fiddled with the pins holding her hair in place. Once they were released he stroked his fingers gently through her tresses then kissed his way across to the pulse point of her neck where he sucked forcefully and nipped with his teeth.  
“Aaah, Stannis,” she gasped as her back arched instinctively pressing her breasts against the hard muscles of his chest. A groan rumbled deep in his chest as he continued to lick and suck at her neck, his hand travelling over the curve of her hip and to her bare thigh where the split in her dress had separated. As his fingers moved over the sensitive skin of her inner thigh and closer to her sex she shivered and froze as fear and apprehension gripped her, her breathing becoming more rapid. 

 

Sensing the tension in her body and the change in her breathing he moved his hand back to her hip and stopped his kisses to stare at her with concern.  
“Are you alright? Do you want me to stop?”  
Sansa looked deeply into his eyes.  
“You would stop if I asked you to?” she asked tremulously, realising that this was the first time that a man she had been with would offer to do so.  
Stannis sat upright and frowned at her.  
“Of course I would stop. You look terrified. Are you frightened of me Alayne?” he asked gently as he stroked her cheek with his fingers. “I would never hurt you. You must know that.”  
“I do know that. I’m not scared of you Stannis. It’s just… a little…. fast.”

 

Stannis looked slightly uncomfortable, rubbing his neck with his hand and not meeting her eye.  
“Umm. You have…I mean I just want to check with you to be absolutely sure. This isn’t the first time for you is it?”  
“I’m not a virgin,” she answered in a small voice, as her face blushed hotly. “It’s just that I haven’t always had the best experiences and it’s been a while, that’s all.”  
He looked as though he wanted to ask more but had thought better of it.  
“Would you prefer if we don’t go any further tonight? Do you want me to take you home?” he asked instead.  
She could tell that he was disappointed about the prospect and she honestly didn’t want the night to end.

 

“No, please would you hold me. Just hold me for a moment?” she asked timidly.  
“Come here,” he replied as he wrapped one arm around her and stroked her hair gently.  
After some time she disentangled herself from his embrace and stared at him before reaching out and loosening his bowtie. She fiddled with the buttons of his shirt while he dealt with the cufflinks. Pushing the shirt over his shoulders and down his arms she took a deep breath as she admired the perfection of his sculpted chest and abdomen, the defined muscles of his biceps, the strong forearms. She reached out tentatively to run her fingers across his chest, tickling through his black chest hair. She leant in and kissed him on one nipple then ran her tongue lightly across it. Stannis groaned and pressed her face gently against him with one hand at the back of her head. 

 

She drew away from him slightly and gazed into his darkened eyes, twisting her body slightly.  
“Would you help me with the zip?” she asked quietly.  
Stannis looked at her in concern.  
“Are you sure?”  
She nodded and gave him a small smile.  
“I want to feel you touching me.”  
Stannis reached for the zip and pulled it down slowly revealing the perfect skin of her back. She stood and grabbed the sleeves of the dress and pulled it down to her waist and over her hips, letting it drop to the ground, exposing her black satin and lace bra and panty set. Feeling vulnerable she sat back down quickly to face him.  
Stannis did not move. He was breathing deeply and staring fixedly at her cleavage and then looked up to meet her eyes as though seeking permission.  
“Please touch me Stannis,” she requested breathlessly.

 

Stannis complied cupping both breasts in his hands and swiping his thumbs over her nipples until he could feel them harden against the smooth satin of her bra cups. Sansa whimpered and pressed herself more forcefully into his hands. He continued to massage and stroke her as he kissed her deeply, his tongue wrestling with hers. Sansa’s hands moved to the back of her bra and unclasped it. Stannis tugged gently at the straps and removed the garment exposing her breasts completely to him. Rounded, soft, pert and creamy with perfect rosy pebbled nipples.  
“Beautiful,” he whispered as he moved his lips back to the pulse point of her neck while he ran his fingers over her bare breasts and tweaked the nipples between forefinger and thumb. A bolt of pure pleasure travelled down to her core; she felt a fluttering at her sex and a warmth and moisture building between her thighs. She moaned with this new sensation that she had never experienced quite like this before. 

 

Stannis pressed her down onto the blanket to lay her on her back as he gradually moved his lips down her neck, over her collarbone and down to the velvety soft skin of one breast. His hands remained at her waist, his thumbs gently grazing the sides of her stomach. He licked around her areola and over her hard nipple eliciting a whine from Sansa. Stannis stopped, gazing intently at her.  
“Please don’t stop Stannis, just… slowly” she pleaded.  
Her back arched and she moaned loudly as he took her nipple into his mouth and sucked and laved at it with his tongue, causing an intense tingling between her legs. He moved his mouth to her other nipple and repeated the action until Sansa was continually moaning and squirming, pressing her thighs together for some relief from the build-up of sensation his actions were causing at her sex.  
“Stannis,” she gasped. “I need…. Please…I need….you to touch me. Just slowly….gently. Please,” she requested.  
He nodded in acknowledgement.

 

A little tentatively he moved his hand from her waist and placed it on her thigh but did not move it immediately, just left it there while he continued his ministrations on her breasts. While her breath hitched and she startled somewhat from the contact of his hand, his lack of movement gradually allowed her to relax. Once he had detected that the tension had left her body he slowly began to massage her thigh and then trail his hand inch by inch up her inner thigh. She could tell by his breathing, the insistent press of his cock against her thigh and the way he was sucking and licking at her breasts that it was taking every ounce of his self-control to proceed at this pace. It was also starting to drive her a little crazy with need. Her hips bucked up in a silent request for more stimulation. Eventually his forefinger grazed the fabric of her panties along her folds eliciting a cry of pure pleasure from Sansa and a groan from him when he realised how wet she had become for him. Her legs parted instinctively giving him more room to manoeuvre. He continued to rub along her folds and then circle around her clit teasing her but never actually making contact with it. 

 

“Will you take my panties off. I want to feel your hands on me,” she gasped out.  
As she lifted her hips Stannis stopped his kisses and licks at her breasts and pulled her underwear down and free from her feet. He stopped to take in the sight of her pink swollen moistened flesh, the small patch of red hair at the apex of her thighs. Sansa blushed hotly under his smouldering gaze.  
“My hands or my mouth,” he offered.  
“I-” I-” she stammered, her face aflame.  
“I won’t hurt you,” he whispered. “I would never hurt you. If it becomes too much just ask me to stop.”  
She nodded and closed her eyes, her lips parting, her breathing laboured as she anxiously waited for his mouth to make contact.  
He placed both of his hands on her hips, pressing her down as his tongue firmly licked along the length of her folds.  
“Oh God!” she cried out loudly. She bucked her hips up but his strong hands held her fast. He continued to lap and suck and smooth his tongue over and between her wet folds as his hands reached up to massage her breasts and pinch her nipples. Finally he circled her clit with his tongue and then sucked forcefully on it.  
“Oh I can’t. Please,” she whined and cried out as she finally went over the edge, her whole body trembling with the force of the sweet cramping sensations that assailed her. She hissed in rapid breaths and clenched her thighs together to eke out the last of the pleasurable throbs at her centre. She moaned and then sighed loudly as a deep satiated relief hit her.


	20. Chapter 20

Stannis stared at her as though he were worshipping a goddess and hummed deep in his throat as he stroked her hair and kissed her lips softly. Tears began to trickle from her eyes as she contemplated that this was the first time she had achieved an orgasm that she hadn’t given to herself. And it had been so much more fulfilling; one of the profoundest experiences of her life. After so many years of fear and debasement she had allowed another to take control of her body. She had allowed herself to feel again. And it had been glorious. She wanted more but still the fear and uncertainty would not entirely leave her. She decided in that moment to push herself just a little further.  
“Will you let me touch you?” she asked shyly as she bit at her bottom lip.

 

In answer Stannis raised himself up. He took a quick look around just to be on the safe side and still finding them to be all alone on the beach he unbuckled his belt, popped the button and let down his fly, slowly pushing his trousers down and stepping out of them. His cock already pushed aggressively against the fabric of his boxer briefs, aroused as he was by pleasuring her. She drank in the sight of his sculpted perfectly proportioned frame. She could tell that he was very well endowed, much larger than anyone she had previously encountered. He lay down on his back and gazed intently at her as she moved towards him, trailing a line of kisses down from his sternum and flat stomach until she reached the band of his briefs. Tentatively she reached for his bulge and squeezed, eliciting a hiss from Stannis as he bucked upwards pressing himself firmly into her hand. She continued to massage and then run her hand along his length through the fabric of his underwear until his breathing hitched and he stopped her hand.

 

“No, please let me,” she requested as she took a deep shaking breath and tugged at the band of his briefs and slid them down over his narrow hips and strongly muscled thighs and calves. He exhaled loudly as his cock was released from the restriction of his underwear and it promptly stood to attention. Sansa stared at his member with a mixture of lust and trepidation as she remembered the terrible acts that such an organ was capable of.   
“You’re so….big,” she hushed.   
She had to bite back a laugh when she noticed how Stannis had puffed up with pride from her remark. Typical male, she thought. The humour in the situation settled her nerves somewhat, especially when she reminded herself that this was Stannis and that she knew he would never hurt her. 

 

She ever so slowly reached over with a slightly trembling hand and stroked her finger up from the base along his shaft and over the soft velvety head. He let out a loud shuddering sigh and gripped the blanket tight in his fists. His reaction to her touch sent a tingle of pleasure straight to her core and she desperately wanted to see and hear more from him. Steeling herself she leant in and kissed him right at the base of his shaft and then licked upwards until she reached the head. She swirled her tongue around the tip and then sucked him into her mouth while her hand cupped his balls and massaged and rolled them gently.  
“Alayne. Fuck!” he rasped as he desperately tried not to thrust up into her mouth.  
She could feel her arousal between her thighs at his sudden obscenity and his near loss of control. Emboldened by her power over him she took more of him into her mouth and sucked more forcibly while she curled her spare hand around his base and tugged, still manipulating his balls with the other. His breathing became increasingly laboured and he was clearly struggling not to thrust up into her.

 

Stannis emitted a groan of sheer desperation and grabbed her gently by her chin to release his cock from her mouth. He crushed his lips against hers in a rough kiss full of lust and arousal. Sansa gasped against his lips and froze as he pushed her down and draped himself over her supporting his weight with his forearms. She felt his cock rubbing against her mound as he began to rock himself against her. Suddenly he broke from the kiss breathing hard and whispered urgently in her ear.  
“Tell me you want this. Tell me you want me. Unless you say the words I’ll go no further.”  
She could not hide from him the fact that she was afraid but at the same time her body wanted more and she realised that her physical desires and her feelings for Stannis were beginning to win the battle.  
“I- I want to. I want you inside me. I don’t want to stop,” she panted out as he continued to slide against her, her folds now hot and slick with her arousal. She could feel her body coiling up with the sweet cramping tension of her pleasure.

 

“Wrap your legs around my waist,” he requested.  
She complied feeling how open she now was for him. She felt a small frisson of fear as she anticipated the moment his large cock would penetrate her. How painful would it be? It was always so painful.  
“Breathe for me Alayne. Try and relax,” he soothed as he peppered small kisses along her jawline. “I won’t hurt you. I’ll go slowly. Do you trust me?”  
Sansa gave him a small smile and nodded.  
Taking his member in his hand he rubbed the tip right at her entrance and over her clit until she started to whimper with need. She felt a blunt nudge and suddenly the head of Stannis’s cock was inside her. She felt a slight tightness but no real discomfort until he pushed a little further in. She gasped and her body stiffened.   
“Ssssh. Breathe,” he whispered as he completely stilled inside her.  
As her muscles relaxed the discomfort waned and Stannis began to push in deeper until gradually he was entirely inside her. The incredible feeling of being filled by him sparked her desire for more sensation and prompted her to thrust her hips against him giving him the signal to move.

 

He withdrew slowly and then just as slowly thrust back into her, long and deep.  
“Stannis,” she gasped as she moved her hips in time to his, setting up a rhythmic action that had them both groaning for more. Instead of the stinging, burning, tearing sensations she was accustomed to this was a delicious friction that was bringing her closer and closer to her release. Stannis changed the angle and alternated long and shallow thrusts but still she teetered on the very edge of completion until it became almost painful. She could tell from his ragged breathing and his increasingly erratic movements that he was starting to lose control. 

Suddenly he reached for her clit and rubbed at it with his fingers firmly as he continued to thrust inside her. She tipped over the edge, screaming loudly and tensing as wave after wave of fluttering cramps assailed her core and coursed through her whole body. As her walls clamped around him and she continued to whimper with her pleasure, Stannis plunged in deeply and withdrew repeatedly with audible grunts. With one final extra deep thrust his back arched, his muscles stiffened and he grimaced and groaned loudly as he spent himself inside her.   
“Alayne,” he moaned.  
Panting heavily he withdrew and rolled over to his side pulling Sansa flush against his chest kissing her deeply and running his fingers through her hair. 

 

She was so filled with gratitude for his gentleness towards her that she thought her chest would be torn apart by the bittersweet pain of it. At the same time she was devastated that she could not tell him the truth about herself. She had wanted so desperately to tell him her real name so that she could hear the sound of it from his lips when he found his release. She wanted so desperately to tell him that she loved him because she knew now that was the truth. But she could not tell him. Not now. Perhaps she would never get the chance. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and wept quietly.


	21. Chapter 21

Stannis smoothed her hair and spoke gently.  
“Are you alright, Alayne? Did I hurt you? I’m sorry if I hurt you.”  
Eventually she sniffled and drew away to regard him. His eyes were full of concern.  
“Thank you,” she whispered.  
“What for?” he asked looking a little perplexed.  
“For being so amazing. Making me feel special and wanted.”  
It did not even come close to expressing how she really felt but she knew that it would have to do.  
“Of course you are special,” he said seriously as he stroked her cheek and wiped stray hairs from her eyes. “And in case it wasn’t completely obvious, I wanted you,” he smirked.  
She blushed and looked at him shyly.  
“I wanted you too. I’ve never been with someone like you.”  
“What? A grumpy old man with anger management issues?” he japed.

 

Sansa giggled.  
“Well maybe you are a little grumpy sometimes but you’re hardly old.  
“Are you sure you aren’t going to get bored with me?  
“Are you kidding?” she squeaked. “After what you just did to me?”  
“Does this mean we might be able to do this again sometime?” he asked with an amused twinkle in his eye.  
“What? Come to the beach and drink champagne from a bottle. Hmmm. Maybe. Next time we should come during the day so you can get all sandy, itchy and sunburnt.”  
“Well, it would be worth it if I get that way because of a repeat of what we just did tonight, perhaps in the water next time,” he teased as she felt herself blush hotly.  
“I love it when you do that,” he said as he rubbed his thumb gently over the apple of her cheek.  
She melted a bit at his use of the ‘L’ word but wished he had used it in a different context.  
“What?” she asked.  
“Blush so prettily for me.”  
She felt herself get even hotter as she nuzzled back into his neck trying to hide her beetroot red face. She was sure that she was glowing more brightly than the moon above them.

 

He chuckled and patted her lightly on the shoulder.  
“Come on we really should make a move now. It’s starting to get late.”  
She sighed and felt tears threatening again.  
“I don’t want to leave,” she whispered in his ear. “I want to stay here with you. You have no idea what you’ve given me tonight. I….. I really….like…. you Stannis.”  
He hugged her close and chucked her chin.  
“Well that is rather fortunate because I ‘really like’ you too Alayne. Now, come on get dressed. The last time I checked this wasn’t a nudist beach.”  
“You’re such a killjoy,” she replied as she cleaned up with tissues from her clutch bag and started to re-dress.  
“You would be stunned to hear that I have actually been told that before, mainly by Robert,” he said with a sardonic smile.  
“What is it with you and your brother? He really seems to like to get under your skin and you let him.”  
“Do you have any brothers and sisters yourself? If you do then you must know how it can be,” he stated.  
Sansa fidgeted nervously. He had caught her off-guard.  
“I don’t get to speak to them as much as I used to,” she replied. It was the truth but it was a tricksy truth. Luckily Stannis didn’t appear to notice her discomfiture.

 

Gathering up the remains of their picnic and the blanket they trudged arm in arm back up the beach to the car, each lost to their own thoughts. The ride back to her apartment was a short one and still neither spoke. Stannis simply reached across and took her hand in his, rubbing across her knuckles with his thumb. Sansa sighed and contemplated their imminent separation. How could she just walk out of his life after what had just transpired between them? She looked across at his face and just at that moment he gazed back, his eyes briefly leaving the road before returning there. The longing in that look was unmistakable but there was something else there that she couldn’t put her finger on and the lines around his mouth had deepened. Not wanting to hear the answer but knowing that she must ask the question, she did.

 

“Is something the matter Stannis? You seem very quiet and a bit upset. Did I do something wrong?  
Stannis glanced back at her his brow furrowing.  
“No. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were perfect.”  
He paused before continuing.  
“ We haven’t known each other very long. I want you to know that you can trust me. If there’s ever anything you need to talk about you can tell me.”  
Sansa felt a twinge of remorse at his solicitousness and the fact that she could not confide in him as he so clearly wished her to. He had obviously sensed that there was something amiss and she wanted nothing more than to break down and confess her whole miserable life of lies, tragedy and pain to him but what would that achieve? He would run a mile and who could blame him.  
“Thank you Stannis. I know I can trust you,” she responded.  
His eyes flicked to her briefly and he sighed but said nothing further.

 

Upon exiting the elevator and walking to the door of her apartment and unlocking it, Stannis grasped her elbow gently and turned her to face him before she could move inside. He looked very tense.  
“There IS something wrong, Stannis. Won’t you tell me what it is?”  
“I don’t want to ruin what we might have between us, Alayne.”  
“You won’t. Trust has to go both ways. Please tell me what’s bothering you.”  
“Petyr Baelish,” he blurted, his eyes boring into her intently, his scowl returning.  
Sansa felt the blood drain from her face.  
“What about him?” she asked as steadily as she could. She detected a slight tremor in her voice and prayed Stannis had not noticed.  
“Exactly what is there between the two of you?”  
Oh God, does he know something? Did he pick up on something at the restaurant?  
“I told you Stannis, he is my uncle. Why are you asking me about him all of a sudden?”

 

Stannis pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes exhaling deeply before replying.  
“You were observed, Alayne,” he said in a near whisper.  
“Observed? Yes, at the restaurant. I told you about that. I thought you understood.”  
“Not at the restaurant. Outside Baelish’s club. Last night.”  
Sansa blanched as she remembered Petyr’s kiss and their embrace.  
“You saw us?” she asked, trying to sound calm but feeling a churning sickness in her stomach and a rush of panic.  
“Not me, Oberyn Martell.”  
“What did he say to you?”  
“That the two of you seemed to be getting quite amorous but that perhaps you were not quite as enthusiastic as he was. Alayne, is he… is he forcing you? Taking advantage of you in some way?”  
“No,” she cried. “Mr Martell got it all wrong. Petyr has always been a very affectionate man to me but as a relative; he would never force himself on anyone. He was simply bidding me goodnight as I got into the car. Nothing more,” she dissembled desperately.  
“That is not what Oberyn tells me, nor those he was with at the time,” Stannis pointed out.  
“If he wasn’t forcing you then what? Do you have feelings for him,” he asked, his voice strained.  
“No! Why would you even think that? We are family and that’s all it is. I don’t love him because I…. You do believe me don’t you?” she asked as her hands started to shake.

 

Stannis stared at her intently but he did not reply.  
“Please Stannis,” she pleaded. “He’s my uncle. He’s more than twice my age, for Heaven’s sake.”  
“Age doesn’t seem to come into the equation with you Alayne or you would not be with me,” he reasoned.  
“He’s quite a bit older than you and you are not my uncle. And besides, he is not as handsome and brave as you are. Well kinda brave. I never did see you take a swig from the champagne bottle,” she smirked, trying to lighten the mood.  
Stannis seemed to relax slightly and stroked his hand up and down her arm.  
“Forgive me. I do believe you. I just… sometimes I wonder what on earth you are doing with someone like me. It puts doubts in my head.”  
“Someone like you? Don’t say that. I meant what I said at Robert’s party about how great you are. I told you that. Don’t ever doubt it. Don’t doubt me. Don’t doubt yourself.”  
Stannis stared at her and then shut his eyes tightly as though he was in pain. He reached out and touched his hand to her face.  
“Alayne,” he whispered, “I -”  
Just then the elevator at the end of the corridor dinged and one of the tenants from the neighbouring apartment appeared.  
Stannis jerked away from her and grimaced like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

 

Once the man had entered his apartment Sansa turned to face him; he looked lost and nervous.  
“Stannis, I’ve had a wonderful night tonight but I have a few things to do tomorrow and I have to get up early in the morning.”  
“Oh, of course,” he replied, seeming a little deflated.  
She was disappointed too. She would have loved nothing more than to feel him press her into her mattress, take her sweetly again and to fall asleep with his arms wrapped around her but she had to leave in the morning. She still hadn’t done any packing, having put it off all day as a way of denying the reality of her imminent departure. She felt tears threatening as she contemplated being without him, at least for the foreseeable future.  
“When can I see you again? That is, if you still want to see me again,” he asked hopefully.  
Sansa took hold of his hand and held it tight; he had sounded so unsure of himself.  
“Of course I want to see you again. I’ll give you a call tomorrow morning and we’ll set something up. Okay?”  
She felt sick to her stomach as she forced the lie from her throat. She would be calling him in the morning but it would not be to arrange another meeting with him.  
Stannis leant in and kissed her gently and stroked his hand through her hair.

 

“Good night Alayne. You were beautiful tonight and brave. It is a night I won’t ever forget.”  
“Me too. Stannis. You saved me again. It’s becoming a bit of a habit,” she joked.  
“I will always be here to save you,” he replied seriously as he gave her hand one last squeeze.  
Sansa stared at him and blinked furiously at the tears that she could no longer hold back.  
“Good night Stannis,” she replied in a whisper as she kissed him quickly on the lips one last time and turned from him and let herself into her apartment.  
Running into her bedroom she flung herself onto her bed, squashed a pillow to her face and gave full vent to her pent up emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up will be a real change of pace. A real dark one.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ****TRIGGER WARNING******  
> This chapter contains references to sexual assault and psychological abuse. It is quite dark so if you are affected by this theme please consider bypassing.

“We are going to play a little game tonight, Sansa.”  
“Do we have to? We’ve played one every night this week. I’m not sure I can do it again tonight.”  
A fist slammed down on the table upsetting a glass of water that spilled and flowed over the surface and dripped to the floor.  
“YOU don’t get to dictate what happens in MY house. If I say we are going to play a game then that’s what we are going to fucking do. HEY! STOP! That better not be a tear I see. You remember what happens when you are a cry baby, don’t you?”  
“Ye….Yes Ramsay.”  
“Because if you make me angry Sansa then you won’t be in any state to play the ever so fun game I have lined up tonight.”  
“Okay. Umm. What type of game, Ramsay.”  
“Oh, you are really going to like this particular one, my love. It involves the stopwatch. I know how much you love the stopwatch.”  
“Yes, Ramsay.”

 

“Here’s what’s going to happen. You are going to strip off completely. You are going to stand at the back door and I am going to start the stopwatch. You will have two minutes.  
“Two minutes to do what, Ramsay?”  
“To run as far as you can as fast as you can. Can you guess what is going to happen when the two minutes are up?”  
“No, Ramsay.”  
“I will start the stopwatch again and I’m coming after you. I will allow another seven minutes. If I catch you before the time is up I will fuck you any way I see fit for the rest of the night. And I think you know what that means.”  
“The cellar.”  
“Good girl. You are with the program. Yes, the cellar. I want to hear your pretty screams. I want you to scream for me all night long.”  
“And…if…if you don’t catch me?”  
“I will give you tonight and tomorrow night off. Don’t say I can’t be a fair man.  
“Yes, Ramsay.”  
“And don’t try anything, my love. Or the dogs may partake of a tender feast tonight.”  
“I won’t, Ramsay.” 

 

“Strip.”  
“But it’s freezing outside. It’s started to snow. I-”  
“I will not tell you again. STRIP!” That’s better. Oh fuck! Yes. Jesus you are beautiful. Now go to the door. Open it. Are you ready?  
Ready….  
Steady….  
GO!”

 

The snowflakes and the cold night air stung her eyes and her cheeks as she hurled herself across the field at the rear of the property. She yelped as sharp stones stabbed unforgivingly into the soft flesh of her insteps and her toes started to numb from the light drift of snow on the grass. As she sucked big gulps of cold air into her lungs they began to burn and her muscles were cramping but still she ran on desperately, tears streaking down her cheeks, her hair whipping wildly across her face. How long had it been? It could have been a minute, it could have been an hour. As if in answer a shrill voice yelled out some distance behind her.

“Time’s up little rabbit. Here I come.”

She whimpered and stopped in her tracks, thinking, desperately grasping for any way to escape. She ran off on a tangent but instantly realised she had miscalculated. In front of her was a big incline with a large stand of pine trees at the top. This would only serve to tire and slow her down but it was too late to double back. 

 

She heaved and gasped for breath as she forced her tiring, shaking legs to make the punishing climb up the hill. 

“Where are you little bunny? I’m comin’ to get you.”

The voice was appreciably closer now.  
She was only half way up the hill but the trees were tantalisingly close. If she could only make it up there perhaps she could lose him long enough for the stopwatch to run out. She pushed her body as hard as she could and finally reached the top of the hill, doubling over and gasping for air convulsively. She had to rest, just for a moment to catch her breath. Just for a moment.

“I can see you. I’m nearly there. I can’t wait to sink my cock into your hot wet cunt tonight. Not long now.”

Gulping in a big lungful of air, her legs nearly collapsing under her from fear and exhaustion, she hurtled into the pine plantation and wove desperately in and around the trunks. 

 

She reached a clearing. Suddenly she heard footfalls behind her and a heavy breathing coming closer and closer and closer. Strong arms encircled her waist and brought her down, her knees hitting painfully against the ground, her cheek pushed into the wet frosty grass. She heard the chime of the stopwatch and screwed her eyes shut and bit at her lip until she tasted iron to prevent a scream from escaping her throat. 

“Times up.”

 

A rough callused hand swept right down her spine and between her buttocks and roughly down between her legs. She whined and tried to squirm away but the body lay partly over her trapping her. The hands moved to her arm and yanked at it painfully to lay her on her back. A sneering, hate-filled face leered over her before lowering to her neck and biting at her maliciously. She squealed. She could feel the hot press of his body and something long and hard nudging at her sex. She closed her eyes and whimpered waiting for the inevitable but it did not come. The figure above her suddenly felt lighter somehow, the fingers now questing at her folds were long and soft. She opened her eyes to meet grey green. A hot moist breath wisped over her earlobe.

 

“Don’t run from me Sansa. Not from me. Don’t push me away. I am your only real friend in this world. Have I not proven that to you time and time again? I would do anything for you. Anything.”

She closed her eyes tight and screamed but made no sound as the ice slowly melted underneath her cheek.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has come to my attention that I neglected to put a trigger warning on my previous chapter. I do apologise to anyone who read it and was in any way upset by it. I did have it in the tags but it was remiss of me not to put it in chapter notes. It has now been rectified. My bad, sorry :(

She sat bolt upright in her bed, breathing hard, her hand swiping at the perspiration that had started to drip down her forehead from her hairline. She pushed herself up from the bed and sat for some time with her head in her hands. She often had disturbing dreams about Ramsay but not about Petyr. What did it mean? Perhaps nothing. Dreams could be so confusing, confounding and could often mean nothing at all. She swung herself out of the bed and made her way to the bathroom on trembling legs. She stopped to look at herself in the mirror and sighed. She looked bloody awful. 

 

After packing she had spent most of the night reliving her time on the beach with Stannis and bursting into tears every time she recalled how deeply she had felt for him when he held her in his arms after their lovemaking. There were several times when she thought that he had been about to tell her he loved her; she was almost sure that he would have said the words had he not been interrupted by her neighbour at the front door. She had wanted so desperately to tell him everything and confess her love for him but apart from her fear over his reaction she was also terrified of putting Stannis in danger. She knew how dangerous a jealous Ramsay could be and she had no doubt that if he got wind of their involvement, Stannis would have a target painted on his back. She also knew that if after learning the truth Stannis stood by her, he would do anything to protect her; he would go after Ramsay as he had with Joffrey. But Ramsay was a completely different calibre of monster and she would not risk Stannis getting hurt or worse for her sake.

 

She threw some cold water in her face and commenced her daily beauty regimen. At least once she had cleansed, toned and moisturised she looked a little more human. She sighed, bundled up her hair and reached for the wig cap sitting on the vanity securing it in place with bobby pins. She pulled on the black wig and adjusted it, stroking through the tresses until it sat just right. She hated the wig. She thought it made her pale skin look washed out and older. Petyr told her that she was beautiful and it made her appear the way he had always pictured Snow White to look from the Brothers Grimm version of the tale. That didn’t make her feel any better about it somehow. 

 

She did not want to be the weak and vulnerable Princess anymore, delivered from evil by a handsome Prince. She did not want to be some sort of silent cinema cliché of the woman tied to the train tracks screaming for her hero to save her. For once in her life she wanted to find the strength to rescue herself. But once again she found herself at the mercy of a man and one that for some reason she did not entirely trust and whose true motivations always remained such a mystery. She picked up a tube of wine coloured lipstick that Petyr had purchased for her when he had acquired the wig and applied it. She didn’t much like the colour on her but he had insisted that it would be perfect with the hair colour and in combination, would make her look more mature. She wasn’t sure why that was important.

 

She dressed quickly in a white light cotton wrap dress and sandals and tied a soft silk scarf around her neck to hide the mark that Stannis had made when he had nipped at her the previous night. Her fingers brushed at the spot and she felt tears threatening again. Blinking them away furiously she walked into the lounge and began to check the contents of her shoulder bag to make sure she had all of her important documents with her. 

 

Glancing at her watch she realised Petyr would be arriving before too long and that she had stalled long enough. It was time to ring Stannis. She’d thought long and hard about a feasible story for her absence and the best she could come up with was that her younger brother Bran had been in a car accident and was fighting for life in hospital. While it ate at her conscience to pretend harm to a member of her family she reminded herself that the incident had in fact happened years ago when he’d been been carpooling for school; her brother had eventually recovered. She fought back a wave of nausea and reached for her cell phone. Just then the doorbell rang.  
“Petyr, you’re early,” she exclaimed as she pulled open the door. 

 

She gasped as she registered the change in his appearance; she almost had not recognised him. Gone were his carefully manicured moustache and goatee, his face completely smooth and appearing much more youthful. He had died his hair to hide the greys at his temples and had applied product to achieve a mussed casual look, so at odds with his usual sleek perfected style. He wore a pair of black jeans, black t-shirt, and a fitted sports blazer. Sansa had to admit that he looked younger, more handsome in this more casual get-up. Now all of a sudden his desire for her to look more mature in her disguise made sense. With the changes to his appearance they now looked much closer in age, appropriate if they were masquerading as husband and wife, less likely to attract attention. Petyr was more than a little aware of her prolonged scrutiny.  
“Do you approve?” he asked with a small smirk.  
“You look…. really handsome.”  
“And you my dear look delectable, as always,” he replied as he leant in to give her a kiss on the cheek; it felt quite strange without the usual tickle of his facial hair.

 

Petyr eyed the phone in her hand and tilted his head to the side eyeing her suspiciously.  
“Calling someone, my sweet?”  
“Umm. No. I… Well. Yes. I was going to ring my friends Gilly and Jeyne. They were expecting me to meet them today for lunch. With everything that’s been going on I completely forgot to cancel,” she dissembled desperately.  
“Don’t lie to me Sansa. I can always tell when you lie to me. Despite the many things I have been able to teach you, lying convincingly is not one of them.”  
Sansa bit at her bottom lip and looked down, unable to meet his penetrating glare.

 

“Give me the phone, Sansa.”  
“But Petyr –”  
“Now, Sansa. I cannot allow you to call that man. You have just demonstrated your complete inability to deceive. I will not let you compromise our safety. We can’t risk him getting wind of what is going on here.”  
“But Petyr, he’ll think -”  
“He’ll think you’ve run out on him. That you changed your mind about him. That you no longer wish to see him. That is as it should be. We will be safe. He will be safe. Is that not what you want?”  
Sansa nodded tremulously.  
“Yes,” she replied in a small voice as she reluctantly handed him the phone. 

 

As she contemplated how difficult it must have been for Stannis to entrust his heart to her given his previous experiences with women it hurt her to the core to think what this apparent rejection would do to him. And if she ever returned to King’s Landing she could forget trying to mend any bridges with him. She knew that Petyr had other motivations for insisting that she not call Stannis but his reasoning was sound. Besides, she was still not sure that she could have held up the pretence of a family emergency in Winterfell indefinitely especially as he was sure to ring her often in her absence and she would be forced to continually lie to him to keep up the pretence.

 

“Good girl,” he smiled. “Are you ready to go?”  
“Yes, I’m ready,” she replied miserably, refusing to return his smile.  
He turned off the phone and placed it on the coffee table and grabbed the handles of her two travel cases.  
“Oh wait Petyr, I forgot something,” she said as she returned to her bedroom. She walked towards him a moment later, knelt and opened one of the travel cases. She stroked her fingers through the bedraggled fur and fingered the tattered and worn pink ribbon around the toy’s neck before squeezing it into the case.  
Petyr watched with curiosity but did not utter a word. Taking one last look around the apartment and exhaling noisily, Sansa ushered Petyr out of the door and walked away from her life once more.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are references to past rape and sexual abuse in this chapter. Nothing graphically described but it is referred to so please be aware.

Stannis sat in his study staring blankly at the screen of his laptop trying to complete some work from home as he waited for Davos to arrive with the information that he had requested regarding Petyr Baelish and Alayne. His friend had had a crack team of investigators working on it around the clock since his phone call on Friday night. Whatever was contained in his file was of such a sensitive nature that the man had refused to divulge anything over the phone and had wanted to speak with him directly. That had made him extremely nervous. He also felt rather deflated as it was now the afternoon and he still had not heard from Alayne. 

 

Hearing the chime of the doorbell, he left his study and walked to the front door opening it with a deep intake of breath.  
“Davos, thank you for coming.”  
“Don’t be too quick to thank me Stannis until you hear what I have to tell you.”  
Stannis grunted and led the man into his lounge room gesturing at one of two large leather armchairs. As they settled in Stannis offered Davos a drink but he declined.  
“I think you might need one though by the time this is through.”  
Stannis fiddled with the top button of his shirt nervously.  
“Alright you have my full attention. Let’s hear it.”

 

“Well, first up, there was never an Alayne Stone in the Vale.”  
“What?!” Stannis exclaimed, wide eyed.  
“There are records of an Alayne Stone travelling to Gulltown around a year ago and again to Maidenpool about four months ago. She has been here for about a month. Prior to that Alayne Stone never existed, at least as far as we were able to determine in the short amount of time we’ve had available. Luckily a lot of what we were able to find out about her prior life is in the public domain, social security, tax department, or in online court records and so on that we’ve been able to access but there’s still a lot we don’t know.”  
Stannis felt an almost physical pain in his chest as he rubbed his hands through his hair and exhaled noisily. She had deceived him; he had been betrayed by a woman once again.

 

“Who is she Davos? And what is the connection between her and Baelish?”  
“She is his niece by marriage.”  
Alright, Stannis thought, at least she didn’t lie about that.  
“Baelish married Lysa Tully Arryn, the sister of Catelyn Tully Stark. Catelyn and her husband Eddard Stark had six children. Two girls and four boys although one of the boys was born to another woman. Your Alayne is the older of the two girls; her real name is Sansa.”  
Davos withdrew a print out of a photo from his file of a pretty young girl smiling directly into the camera. She had creamy white skin, bright blue eyes and shimmering long red hair. The face was more rounded and undefined due to her age and she was shorter with none of her current womanly curves but there was no mistaking that it was her.  
“Sansa,” he whispered as his fingers reached out to touch the picture. Remembering himself he withdrew his hand and frowned as he looked back up at Davos who regarded him solemnly.

 

“Were you able to find out much about her interactions with Baelish? Was he involved much in the lives of the Starks?”  
Davos sighed and appeared momentarily lost for words.  
“This is not going to be easy to hear, Stannis.”  
“Go on,” Stannis prompted.  
“Twelve years ago according to Vale High Court records Baelish was brought up on charges of child molestation. The child in question was Sansa. She was eight years old at the time.”  
Stannis felt a wave of nausea hit him like a brick wall and then a surge of fury.  
“Oh my God! Fuck! That little cocksucker! I’m going to kill him! What is he even doing out on the streets!?” 

 

Stannis shot from his chair, his hands clenching and unclenching fitfully. Now he knew why she had acted the way she did when they made love. He knew there was something wrong. But Sansa had been kissing Baelish. Why? Why would she kiss the man who had stolen her innocence in such a vile manner? Why would she go anywhere near him?  
Davos looked a little nervous. Stannis, noticing his friend’s reaction, resumed his seat.  
“Best legal representation that money could buy, no priors, unimpeachable reputation in the community, confused testimony from a minor and knowing the way he operates I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a little greasing of the palms involved with the judiciary somewhere along the line. In any case, the prosecution couldn’t make the charges stick.”  
“That is fucked!” Stannis yelled as he slammed his fist down on the arm of his chair.

 

Davos continued once he sensed that Stannis had calmed sufficiently.  
“After the court case Baelish’s wife filed for divorce. Somehow he ended up with Eyrie mansion as part of the settlement where he resided until about six months ago when he moved to King’s Landing to take up an executive position in a major bank and establish his dubious side businesses. According to coroner records, Lysa died some four years after the divorce. The cause of death was determined as an overdose on prescription sedatives for a chronic mental condition.”  
“And the Starks?”  
Davos fiddled with the sleeve of his jacket and his face took on a saddened expression.  
“Sansa is the last surviving Stark, Stannis.”  
Stannis’s jaw dropped.  
“But, how? You said there were five siblings.”  
“All dead. All gunned down in a home invasion and fire just before Sansa’s fourteenth birthday. It was quite the news in the North when it happened.  
Stannis clenched his teeth and wiped at his brow. He remembered what she had said about not speaking with her brothers and sister when they were at the beach and winced at the memory.

 

“Shit! How did she survive? Why wasn’t she killed too?”  
“No one really knows. She was found outside on the ground wrapped in a blanket holding on to some sort of stuffed toy. The odd thing is that they found the body of a man in the house that was burnt beyond recognition. Forensics determined that the neck had been broken. There were also reports of sightings in the area of a criminal fugitive by the name of Sandor Clegane who was the Starks’ neighbour at one time. He is a prime suspect in the murders and arson but currently his whereabouts are unknown.”  
Davos rummaged through his file and withdrew another picture, this time of a large man with wild long stringy hair and a terrible burn scar afflicting one side of his face.  
“So that scarring wasn’t caused by the Stark fire?” Stannis enquired.  
“No, every mugshot we found, some predating the fire showed him like this.” Davos replied.

 

“Why would this Clegane fellow target the Starks?”  
“There were suggestions of inappropriate behaviour by Clegane towards Sansa.”  
Stannis groaned in agony.  
“Not again? Not after Baelish?”  
Davos shook his head.  
“Likely not. Eddard Stark levelled the allegations but there was never any proof and the alleged victim herself vehemently denied that anything untoward had ever happened. It seems Catelyn Stark was not entirely convinced of his guilt either but deferred to her husband. In the end there was not enough to go on and the charges were dropped. In the absence of a better suspect, revenge by Clegane is the most popular theory.”  
“Thank God it sounds like he didn’t touch her. But why would he slaughter the whole family? It doesn’t make any sense.”  
“No one knows and unfortunately Sansa was too traumatised to clearly recall the events of that night.”  
“You said he was a fugitive before the Starks were killed. How so?”

 

Davos looked uncomfortable which Stannis regarded as a very bad sign.  
“There was an incident outside the Stark house about three months before the home invasion.”  
“What sort of incident?” Stannis asked with trepidation.  
“Sansa was abducted from the front yard one afternoon.”  
“What!?”  
“Three men in a white van. One of the men was a known child rapist by the name of Meryn Trant who had recently been granted parole after 17 years in prison. The other two men, Davies and Stephens were petty crims in and out of jail on relatively minor offences.”  
Stannis felt like ejecting the contents of his stomach but he had to ask.  
“Did they…?”

 

“No. According to Sansa’s recorded testimony at the trial of Davies and Stephens, they frightened her and threatened her but they didn’t touch her other than to restrain her. Trant however had started to touch her inappropriately and would most likely have… but was stopped by Clegane. He had witnessed the abduction from his front yard and had followed the van on his motorbike. When he caught up with them he snapped Trant’s neck and beat the other two senseless. Although no one cried a tear over Trant it was still murder or at the very least manslaughter in the eyes of the law. He would have been up for aggravated assault on the other two men. Clegane ran. He’s been running ever since and has committed a string of robberies and assaults along the way. He had a chequered history previously, having been in and out of prison since the age of nineteen so he had strong criminal proclivities even before all of this happened. Davies and Stephens were imprisoned but died in separate attacks by other inmates while in the rec yard.”  
Stannis rubbed at his chin and exhaled loudly as he contemplated how terrified Sansa must have been by this ordeal.

 

“So what happened to Sansa after her family died?”  
“Baelish petitioned for custody but was denied. She was placed in the foster care system and bounced around from family to family until she ended up with the Hardyng family at the age of sixteen.”  
Davos paused steepling his fingers under his chin and closing his eyes.  
“Go on, tell me,” Stannis urged.  
Davos spoke with some difficulty.  
“This is all from court records. Roslyn and James Hardyng had three children, the oldest of which was a son named Harry. He was 22 years of age. He did not live in the home but would stay on occasion during holiday seasons and the like. Harry was immediately attracted to Sansa but she reported feeling uncomfortable around him.”  
Davos paused his eyes darting from side to side. Eventually he continued in a strained voice. “Then one night during a week's stay when his parents and siblings were out he slipped Rohypnol into her drink. She started to come out of the drug in the middle of the rape and remembered exactly what happened to her.”  
Stannis felt like someone had punched him in the guts. He screwed his eyes shut as he fought for breath.  
“Of course Harry claimed it was consensual but the jury didn’t buy it. He is currently incarcerated for the crime and has survived two attacks by fellow inmates,” Davos added.  
“They should have cut his fucking dick off,” Stannis bit out in fury.  
“Well, funny you should say that… Child rapists aren’t exactly beloved in the prison system.”  
Stannis squirmed uncomfortably in his chair and cleared his throat noisily.

 

“What happened then?” he asked, feeling thoroughly unwell and as though he had heard as much as he could possibly handle for one day but needing to press on.  
“She remained in the foster care system until she turned eighteen. Being the sole heir to the Stark fortune (and it was a large estate by all accounts) she had the resources to move on with her life which makes it really rather tragic that, according to the electoral register address listed for her at the time, she decided to turn to Baelish.  
“What!?” Stannis exclaimed. “Why would she do that? That fucker molested her for Christ’s sake!”  
Davos shrugged.  
“Who can say? Perhaps she doesn’t remember what happened. In any case, it is not unheard of for abuse victims to maintain some sort of relationship with their abusers. He could have been grooming her for years. We don’t know if there was any clandestine interaction between them during the time she was fostered out. I imagine a man like Baelish would be quite adept at making a young girl emotionally dependent upon him. And don’t forget, she has no other family living. Imagine how lonely and afraid she must have been. Men like him prey on that sense of insecurity.”  
Stannis treated Davos to one of his deepest scowls. Luckily Davos was quite accustomed to them or he may have run for the hills.

 

“We don’t know of course what happened between them behind closed doors. That will remain a mystery, perhaps that’s a blessing. But what we do know is that at the age of nineteen Sansa met Ramsay Bolton, the son of iron ore magnate Roose Bolton, a most unsavoury and unscrupulous prick from all accounts. Not much is known about the son other than that he was born to one of his father’s mistresses. It is also not known why Baelish appeared to have encouraged or at least allowed the match, given that you would think he would want to keep complete control over her. Some sort of financial or business gain? The Boltons are an extremely powerful family with a long reach. Anyway, Sansa and Bolton’s engagement was announced in the media. Shortly thereafter another story hit the media of a bruised and battered Sansa being admitted to Vale General Hospital. The report said that she had been thrown by her horse while out riding but there were other rumours circulating at the time.”

 

Stannis moaned.  
“He was abusing her.”  
“It would appear so. Nearly four weeks after her discharge from hospital Sansa Stark disappeared from the world and Alayne Stone was born. That is when we have record of her settling in Gulltown.”  
“She’s running from him,” he concluded.  
“That would seem to be the most likely scenario,” Davos agreed. “Interestingly, no one has seen or heard from Ramsay in weeks.”  
“Could he be here on the sly trying to track her down?”  
“That’s very possible but let’s pray that’s not the case,” he replied.


	25. Chapter 25

Stannis rubbed aggressively at his eyes and could not look his friend in the eye.  
“How is she alive? How is she sane? How does she go on? She should be sitting in a padded cell somewhere in a straight jacket bashing her head against the wall. How can she be so damn strong?”  
Stannis felt tears prickling at his eyes and blinked them away rapidly. Stannis hadn’t cried since the day Selyse walked out of his life taking Shireen with her.  
“They breed them tough up in the North. She has something of the wolf in her it would seem,” Davos mused.  
Stannis did not trust himself to speak so remained silent.

 

“I want to say something to you as a friend, Stannis.”  
“Go on,” he mumbled.  
“It is quite obvious that you care for this young woman. I am no expert in these things but clearly she must be very damaged by all of the things that have happened to her. If you go in like a bull at a gate and call her out on her ruse it is sure to bring back some very traumatic memories and re-open some very large wounds. You are a man of action but in this you must exercise more caution. She is strong but everyone has their limit. And for God’s sake don’t go after Baelish. I know you want to string him up by his testicles but he is a dangerous man.”  
“I can be dangerous too Davos when someone hurts the one I –”  
Stannis dropped his gaze and sighed loudly.

 

“My God, Stannis. Are you in love with Sansa Stark,” Davos asked incredulously.  
“It’s not like you to be so… precipitous. She’s a lovely girl but you don’t even really know her. All of this is a clear demonstration of that.”  
“I know enough to know how I feel, Davos. I’ve never felt like this about another woman, not even Selyse in the early days. You know what the worst thing is about all of this?”  
“Enlighten me,” Davos responded.  
“The way I treated her when we first met; the things I said to her. Cruel, brutish, completely insensitive slurs against her character. She was an innocent Davos, completely without blame. Her childhood was stolen from her. She has never known what a healthy relationship with a man is like. And I came along like some fucking misogynist and treated her abominably. I hate myself right now.”

 

“You were an arsehole Stannis. I can’t disagree, but I think you’re being a little hard on yourself. You weren’t to know about her past,” Davos reassured.  
Stannis wouldn’t let himself off the hook.  
“Be that as it may, when we….well… I knew something was wrong. I knew there was something she wasn’t telling me. All of the signs were there. But I went ahead and did it anyway. I am a fucking selfish prick.”  
Davos stared at him wide eyed, his eyebrows lifting sky high.  
“Stannis did you have sex with her?”  
“Yes,” he replied through gritted teeth. “What have I done, Davos?”

 

Davos scratched at his beard.  
“Well I take it she was a willing participant?”  
“Of course!” Stannis exclaimed, scowling fiercely at him. “But it was difficult for her, that much was obvious.”  
“And how was she afterwards?”  
Stannis was tempted to smile at the memory of Sansa’s deeply satisfied expression and trembling exhausted limbs but could not allow himself to do so in the current context.  
“She was… not undisposed to seeing me again,” he replied obliquely.  
“Then you should not reproach yourself. If you want to keep seeing her you know you have to address it eventually Stannis. You can’t allow this thing to become a big elephant in the room. But gently, gently.”  
“I know. I will handle it, but what the fuck do I say to her, Davos?”  
“I don’t rightly know my friend, but I’m glad it’s you and not me. You know I’ve got your back though, big boy.”  
“Thanks, very helpful,” Stannis sneered.

 

Suddenly he realised how late it was and frowned.  
“What is it Stannis?”  
“She was supposed to ring me this morning. It’s nearly 3pm and I still haven’t heard from her. Oh damn! Just a second.”  
Realising he had left his phone in the study he hurried to his desk and checked the phone for any missed calls or messages. His heart sank when he realised there was nothing from her but perhaps she had been delayed. There was however a text message with an attachment from Oberyn Martell.

 

“Pity you would not enter into the wager the other night Stannis. Look who I bumped into today at the airport. You would have owed me a cool grand.”

 

The photo showed a dark haired man and woman sitting in a gate lounge of KLI Airport. Neither looked familiar.

 

Stannis drew a blank at first but then recalled some ridiculous wager that Oberyn had proposed at the restaurant regarding the true nature of the relationship between ‘Alayne’ and Baelish. Stannis had nearly clocked the clown but had managed to control his anger enough to merely grunt and tell the man to fuck off. With a sinking feeling he looked more closely at the photo. It was taken at some distance and the pair were not facing square to the camera. 

It couldn’t be could it?

 

Stannis walked back to the lounge room where Davos sat patiently waiting for him to return.  
“Davos, take a look at this and tell me what you see.”  
Davos looked up at him quizzically and took the phone from his hand squinting at it in concentration. Slowly his eyes started to widen and his jaw dropped.  
“Well fuck me sideways,” he exclaimed.  
Stannis collapsed with a loud exhale on to the couch and rubbed roughly at his face.

 

“Give me the phone, Davos.”  
Stannis stabbed furiously at the phone and put it on speaker.  
“Stannis, my old friend. I take it you got my very intriguing message and delicious photograph,” Oberyn purred.  
“Oberyn, just cut the crap and tell me exactly what you saw,” he snapped in exasperation.  
“Your Miss Stone looking quite exquisite and Littlefinger with a makeover. Quite impressive I must say. They make a very beautiful couple, don’t you think?” he sing-songed.  
Stannis had to crush the urge to holler down the line and hurl the phone against the nearest wall. Instead he took a long deep breath and steadied his voice.

 

“What plane did they board and when, do you know?”  
“They were on the same plane as me. We landed just half an hour ago.”  
“Did they see you?  
“No. I believe not. They were in first class, I slummed it in business class due to your company’s…. frugality,” he sniffed. “They embarked and disembarked via the first class jetbridge.”  
“So you did not see them in the terminal?”  
“No.”  
“When you saw them in the Gate Lounge how did she seem to you?”  
“I only saw them briefly so I could not really say. Why Stannis? Why are you asking all of these questions?”  
“Never mind Oberyn. Look, I have to hang up now.”  
“Of course Stannis,” the man replied, a note of curiosity in his tone.  
Stannis terminated the call.

 

“What the fuck is going on Davos?”  
“Your guess is as good as mine, Stannis.”  
Stannis rubbed at his eyes and pushed his fingers through his hair. He took another look at the picture that Oberyn had sent. Baelish’s eyes were fixed intently on Sansa but hers were downcast, her face pallid and mouth downturned. He felt an unwelcome stab of jealousy when he once again studied Baelish with his now more youthful appearance.  
“Why would she willingly go with him? After everything he did to her?”  
Davos scratched his chin and considered before replying.  
“Perhaps she knows exactly what she is doing and she’s exactly where she wants to be. But what if he’s manipulating her? He might have preyed on her fears of Ramsay enough to convince her to leave with him. And there’s a possibility she doesn’t remember or completely understand what Baelish did to her. She might have blocked it as some sort of subconscious coping mechanism. After what she’s been through that would be far from unlikely,” Davos argued. “In which case she is in a lot of trouble. He has her right where he wants her, alone and isolated.”

 

“We have to find her Davos. I know there’s a possibility that she’s just been playing me. But whatever the truth is, I have to be sure he's not hurting her,” he muttered desperately.  
“Of course, that goes without saying. It won’t be easy though. We are going to need a man on the ground.”  
“You mean Martell? Do you think he can be trusted?”  
“Well, you know him better than I do. But that’s beside the point. Do we have any other choice? Baelish is clever and he would have covered his tracks. The fact that they have altered their appearances speaks to that. They will be travelling under assumed identities. We need someone with contacts, a network and local resources at their disposal. And I’d rather the devil we know than one we don’t.”  
Stannis sighed in resignation.  
“I concur. Shame though. I was rather looking forward to strangling that cunt the next time I saw him.”


	26. Chapter 26

“You haven’t spoken a word to me since the plane took off Sansa. Are you going to be like this for the entire journey? I know you are upset but won’t you talk to me? It is going to be a very long and tiresome trip for us both if you don’t.”  
Sansa turned her face from the window to regard him. She had been staring absently out at the fluffy clouds floating by for the past hour and ignoring Petyr completely. In fact, she had barely spoken a word to him since they had left the apartment. While she knew that her current circumstances were the fault of Ramsay and not the man sitting beside her she still could not compel herself to engage him in conversation. 

 

Petyr took her hand in his and squeezed it gently; his eyes were filled with genuine concern.  
“Please, I don’t like seeing you like this. It reminds me of the day you landed on my doorstep after you escaped from Ramsay. So empty and hopeless and full of anger against me. The way you looked at me then is very much the way you are looking at me now. Do you hate me that much?”  
Sansa detected the sadness in his eyes and sighed squeezing his hand back.  
“You know I believe you now about all of that. I realise that you had no idea what he was really like or you never would have encouraged us to date in the first place. I do believe that now, but it took me a while. You’re usually so in control and you know exactly what you’re doing. But I understand that everyone makes mistakes. This one just happened to be a really big one. I don’t hate you. It’s just….it’s hard for me. I just want to have a normal life. Just for once. I thought this time it was really going to happen. I just want to catch a break, you know?”

 

“Of course I know. When you suffer Sansa, so do I. I have been alone most of my life so I do understand how it is. But we do not have to be alone now. We have each other, yes?  
“Yes, we do,” she replied, shooting him a small but forced smile.  
“Good girl. Excuse me attendant,” Petyr called out, “Could we have two glasses of Arbor Gold please?”  
“Right away, Sir.”  
“I don’t really feel like drinking Petyr,” Sansa stated.  
“It’s just one glass, my sweet. Just to take the edge off. What – do you think I am trying to make you drunk, wife?” he teased.  
Something about the way he said it put her nerves on edge. She pushed through the feeling and gave him a wan smile, accepting the glass from the flight attendant and clinking it against his. She desperately wished that it was Stannis sitting next to her in that moment instead of Petyr.  
“To us,” Petyr toasted.  
“To us,” she intoned robotically as she sipped unenthusiastically at the contents of the glass.

 

“So Petyr, you mentioned that there would be security and house staff at the villa?”  
“There is a caretaker, a cook and a security guard.”  
“Do we really need the security guard?” Sansa enquired, not relishing the idea of being constantly monitored.  
“Yes love. We cannot take any chances with our safety, even in that secluded place. Ramsay has proven himself to have very long arms in the past. After all, he managed to track you down in Gulltown and Maidenpool eventually. It was only due to the diligence of my team that we were forewarned in time to move you to safety.”  
“I don’t understand why I can’t just stay with you in King’s Landing, Petyr. You have significant resources too. Surely I would be just as safe there.”  
“You underestimate his determination Sansa. When Ramsay has all his pieces in place he will come for me first. His men watched me when I first moved to King’s Landing as they did in the Vale after we moved you to Gulltown but they made no move against me, perhaps as there was no indication at all that you were anywhere near me. But it’s different now; something has led them back. It is not that I fear for myself but if something were to happen to me there would be no one left to protect you. I cannot risk that.”

 

“So is the security man part of the villa staff or someone you have hired?”  
“He is part of my regular staff usually based in King’s Landing. His name is Bronn. The other two are not the usual staff at the villa. I had them hired specifically for this occasion. Bronn knows who you are. The others believe that we are newlyweds on our honeymoon.”  
Sansa winced internally but tried to show no reaction.  
“What’s he like then, the security guard?”   
“Large. Very intimidating. Very uncompromising. Everything you need in a security guard. He is the best man I have for the job.”  
Ironically, this didn’t make her feel any safer.  
“He is a precaution Sansa. I have every confidence that I have covered our tracks sufficiently. Finding us in Dorne will be like finding a needle in a haystack.”

 

Sansa must have appeared unconvinced as he continued to try and reassure her.  
“You do not need to be afraid Sansa. I have been doing this for a very long time. You can have complete confidence in the fact that I will protect you with any means at my disposal.”  
“I know Petyr. You’ve always been there when I’ve needed you.”  
“Not always my dear. And you don’t know how much that kills me.”  
“You couldn’t be there when my family died, and it wasn’t your fault. You explained to me what happened and I understand.”  
Petyr’s eyes darkened, his tone turned cold and hard.  
“Baseless accusations by that son of a bitch Clegane. That is what tore you away from me. He knew I was on to him, as was your father. He was so enamoured of you that he concocted those detestable lies about me to remove me from the picture. I would never have done the things to you that they accused me of. Never. He is the one who killed your family. I will believe that until my dying day,” he hissed angrily.

 

Sansa bit at her bottom lip and tried to recall her times alone with Petyr when she was a child. She remembered them playing hide and seek. He would find her, they would laugh, he would sit her on his knee and sing to her. Happy memories. But she also had happy memories of her neighbour Sandor. Despite her father’s suspicion of him, she had trouble believing that he would in any way harm her and she knew in her heart that he would never have harmed her family. She wanted so badly to defend Sandor but given Petyr’s hatred of the man, thought it best to remain silent.  
Petyr must have sensed the direction of her thoughts. He spoke harshly.  
“If Clegane had not been so fixated on you and determined to keep you for himself you would have been with me and would never have ended up with the Hardyngs. I will never forgive him for what happened to you Sansa.”  
“No one is responsible for what Harry Hardyng did to me, except Harry Hardyng,” she asserted.   
Petyr huffed in irritation but did not reply.

 

“Petyr, I really don’t want to talk about this anymore,” she sighed.  
“Oh, of course, my dear. I apologise. We will speak of happier matters. I think you will really love the villa, Sansa. It is beautiful. It is set high up in the hills about an hour from Water Gardens. There is a swimming pool, an outdoor spa, a tennis court, a library. Everything that you could possibly want except a TV and internet access.”  
“It sounds wonderful,” Sansa replied, trying to sound enthusiastic.   
While she was not the type to sit with her face constantly plastered to a screen it sat uncomfortably with her that they would be so completely isolated from the outside world even if it did contribute to their safety.

 

“And I know how much you love going to the beach. There is a very private isolated beach about a half hour’s drive west that I have been told about by the owner of the villa. We should be quite safe there. I will take you there whenever you wish to go.”  
Sansa knew he was trying very hard to please her so she took his hand and squeezed it gently, gifting him a small smile.  
“Thank you Petyr. That would be lovely.”  
Petyr brought her fingers up and lightly brushed his lips against them.  
“All I want is for you to be happy, my love. That is all that I have ever wanted.”

 

She sighed as she thought about the one and only person in the world who she knew could make her happy but that she had now lost forever. She glanced at her watch and her heart sank as she realised that Stannis would now be wondering why he had not heard from her. It was only a matter of time before he discovered her absence. She felt a stab in her chest as she contemplated how much he would come to hate her for her perceived betrayal of him. The thought of the man that she loved despising her and hardening his heart even further towards any woman who may seek him out in the future broke her heart. 

 

According to Davos, Stannis had almost completely eschewed women so he had taken such a huge risk with her. It was her destiny to be alone – she knew that now without a shadow of a doubt. She had been a naïve fool to think otherwise. But the idea that Stannis could also end up alone due to her actions hurt her deeply. She took a shaky breath and looked out the window at the clouds floating by as she struggled to keep tears at bay, knowing that the man beside her was closely scrutinising her.

Goodbye my love. Please forgive me.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for references to rape (no detailed description but it is implied) so please bear in mind.

BANG!

 

BANG! 

 

BANG! BANG!

 

BANG!

 

Screaming

 

Two voices

 

Mom? Arya?

 

Smoke

 

Coughing 

 

Eyes stinging

 

Darkness

 

“Hold her down”

 

“MOM, MOM!”

 

Screaming

 

Arya?

 

“No, no! She’s just a little girl. Why are you doing this?”

 

“Shut up bitch”

 

BANG!

 

“NOOOOOO!!!”

 

“Your turn, cunt.”

 

Screaming.

 

Mom?

 

BANG!

 

“Go get the little slut and let’s get the fuck out of here”

 

Door creaks

 

“Hello beautiful. We’re going on a little trip”

 

Black eyes

 

Stringy sweat soaked hair

 

Thin lips 

 

Strong arms

 

Fingers hurting

 

Bruising

 

Try to scream

 

Against his hand

 

Falling, falling

 

The floor 

 

Hard, cold

 

Air so hot

 

Can’t see 

 

Smoke, so much smoke

 

A scream 

 

“Who sent you?”

 

A groan

 

“I said, who the fuck sent you?”

 

A mumble

 

A moan

 

Silence

 

A body

 

His

 

Eyes wide

 

Not blinking

 

Yelling 

 

Cursing

 

Flames flicker

 

Red

 

Crackle

 

So hot

 

Smoke 

 

Coughing

 

Eyes stinging

 

Strong arms, lifting 

 

Warm chest

 

Gentle hands

 

Fresh air

 

Cold, so cold

 

A blanket

 

Warm

 

Something soft 

 

Fur

 

Ribbon

 

Tears

 

Wet

 

His

 

“I’m sorry. I was too late. I’m so sorry”

 

Alone

 

All alone now

 

Sleep……………..


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a longer chapter to make up for the shorty last time :)

“Sansa, Sansa,” wake up sweetheart. You’re having a nightmare.”  
Sansa jolted awake at the touch of Petyr’s hand on her arm and his worried voice. She wiped at tears that stained her cheeks and took a couple of deep shaking breaths. She often had disturbing nightmares about the gunshots and fire that claimed her family and home but this one was one of the worst – so visceral. She could still hear the echoes of her mother’s and Arya’s screams, feel the bruises that her would-be kidnapper had left on her arms and thighs. Her eyes stung as though the smoke had somehow drifted along with her into the waking world. But try as she may she could not discern the features of the man who had saved her through the haze of smoke. His voice sounded familiar but in her dream it was muffled by the crack and flare of fire and she couldn’t place it. She never could. 

 

“You nodded off. Are you alright, my love? You look so pale and frightened. What did you dream about?”  
Sansa did not want to talk about it. Talking about it would make it too real.  
“I’m okay. I can’t really remember the dream, Petyr,” she stammered as she peered out the passenger side window of the car. They were surrounded by dense verdant forest with the odd building interspersed into the sides of the hills, here and there.  
“Are we nearly there?” she asked.  
“Yes, a couple more minutes. Time to take the wig off Sansa before we get to the villa unless you want to wear it the whole time we’re there.”  
Sansa sighed heavily and removed the wig and wig cap stroking through her tresses with her fingers. She took a tissue from her bag, flipped down the car visor to access the mirror and removed the dark lipstick, afterwards swiping at her lips with her usual nude lip gloss.  
Petyr eyed her speculatively. He was obviously still concerned about her state of mind.  
“Are you sure you’re alright?”  
“I said I was, didn’t I,” she snapped and then instantly regretted it when she saw the hurt look that passed briefly over his face.

 

“I’m sorry Petyr. I guess I’m a little wound up from everything that is going on. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”  
Petyr took hold of her hand and squeezed it gently.  
“Think nothing of it, my dear. It is perfectly understandable. Of course you are scared and upset. Who wouldn’t be after what you’ve been through.”  
Sansa sighed.  
“I hate that he has so much control over me still. I wish I could stop running. I don’t want to run anymore.”  
“Soon Sansa. Soon. You can stop running and you can reclaim your life. I can only hope that you will see fit to include me in it after all is said and done and you no longer need me.”  
Something vulnerable had crept into his voice. It was when he let down his guard with her like this that she felt a small surge of affection for him.  
“Of course I will Petyr. I’ll always need you,” she stated firmly, reassuring him with a return squeeze of his hand.  
He turned his face to meet her eyes, his expression inscrutable. His voice had betrayed him but his practised mask of control had returned. 

 

Petyr turned the car into a narrow gravel strewn track that gradually wound its way between the trees, eventually leading up a hill towards a beautiful modern white walled L-shaped villa with a huge square shaped pool at the front; an outdoor spa was built in to the side of the pool on the left. The middle of the structure featured an exposed entertainment area complete with large brass and wooden ceiling fans, potted palms, teak table and chairs and a long red lounge. To the left side of the room a large sliding door led out from the master bedroom onto the timber decking of the spa and pool. On the other side a similar door opened through to a formal dining and lounge area. Vegetation of astonishing variety completely surrounded the pool. Red and green of Nerogelias, the vivid fuchsia and canary of Plumerias, the bright yellow Brazilian roses and fan shaped Livistonia palms grew in abundance with many other species Sansa couldn’t identify. The balmy air was filled with the gentle hum of insects and sweetly melodic bird calls. She couldn’t control the loud gasp that escaped her as she took in the lush tropical splendour of the property in all its glory.

 

Petyr smiled smugly as he noticed Sansa’s awed expression but frowned as her smile faded upon reaching the fence and locked gate that circled the perimeter of the grounds.  
“Is that what I think it is, Petyr?” she muttered unhappily.  
“Yes, dear. An electric fence. It is necessary for our safety. We can’t take any chances. Even here.”  
Petyr lowered his window reached out his hand and pressed an intercom button to the right of the gate.  
“It’s me. Power down.”  
There was a slight buzzing sound and a click as the power was shut off to the horizontal wires of the fence and the gate lock was released. Any joy that she had felt upon beholding the beauty of the villa was quickly snatched away as she contemplated her imminent imprisonment.  
“I feel like I’m going to be living in a cage,” she lamented as he turned his head to regard her.  
“We all live in cages of one sort or another, Sansa. But at least we can choose to live in a rather luxurious one for a small time.”

 

As they drove closer to the villa she spied three parked cars and she could detect movement within the building. Three people emerged. A small plumpish woman with greying hair and friendly eyes walked alongside a thin middle-aged man with receding hairline and deep lines around the mouth. They both smiled as they approached. Behind them loomed perhaps the largest man that Sansa had ever seen in the flesh before. The neck and shoulders of a bull, huge biceps, barrel chested and with sturdy meaty thighs. That was intimidating enough without taking into account the cold, menacing and predatory glint in his eyes as his gaze locked with hers. He did not smile but his lips quirked into a slight snarl as he continued to glare at her. 

 

A cold flash of fear shot through her but she swallowed thickly and squared her shoulders and smiled her brightest smile at all three as they came to a standstill in front of herself and Petyr. The woman spoke first.  
“Mr Symons, I’m Mrs Beechworth. It is nice to meet you in the flesh,” she said as she extended her hand to Petyr.  
“We do not need to stand on formality here. Call me Stephen, please. I appreciate you making yourself available at such short notice. You came highly recommended. Rebecca, Mrs Beechworth is our cook. She is actually a retired qualified chef specialising in Myrish and Dornish cuisine.”  
“Pleased to meet you Mrs Symons.”  
“Please call me Rebecca, Mrs Beechworth. I absolutely love Myrish food but I haven’t had the opportunity to eat much Dornish cuisine. I am looking forward to trying it,” Sansa said enthusiastically.  
“And you must both call me Shirley. Please, I am here to make your stay as pleasant as possible. If there is anything you require, any dietary requirements or preferences, then please let me know.”  
“Thank you Shirley. I am happy to leave myself in your hands. I am sure that I will be more than happy with what you come up with for us.”  
The woman smiled warmly.

 

The thin man next to Shirley had been standing patiently observing their interaction but now extended his hand to Petyr in greeting.  
“Stephen, we’ve spoken on the phone but it is good to meet you.”  
“Likewise Colin. Rebecca this is Colin Livingstone. He is the caretaker during our stay.”  
Sansa shook the man’s hand. It was heavily calloused, speaking of years of hard labour, his grip sure and firm.  
“Nice to meet you, Colin.”  
“Same Rebecca. The villa is in excellent condition and I don’t anticipate any issues but if either of you should require anything I am at your disposal. We are all domiciled in separate living quarters at the rear of the villa adjacent to the tennis court. You have only to knock, any time.”  
“Thank you, that’s very kind, Colin,” Sansa smiled, but her smile faded as she realised she would now have to face the hulking monster of a man who had not stopped glaring at her since he had first appeared.

Sansa fought an overriding urge to cringe as Bronn approached, reaching out with a massive paw and engulfing her small hand with his. As he towered over her and squeezed her hand just a little too tightly she was acutely aware of how huge he was in comparison to her slight figure. If he had a wont to, he could snatch her up and snap her in half like a twig. Petyr must have sensed something of her apprehension and noticed that Bronn held on to her hand a little longer than was necessary in the circumstances. He frowned and stepped closer to them but Bronn completely ignored the smaller man’s presence.  
“Rebecca, this is Bronn who I told you about in the car, one of my security guards from King’s Landing.”  
Sansa tried to relax but Bronn’s perpetual sneer and penetrating dark eyes set her completely on edge. Her lips quirked into a mere semblance of a smile. He still had not released her hand.

 

“Pleased to meet you Bronn,” she said politely, desperately trying to keep her voice from trembling.  
“Rebecca,” he replied ominously, his voice rumbling forth deep from his chest like boulders crashing down an escarpment.  
Sansa startled and stared wide eyed at him. Something about his voice had caused an electric bolt of fear to race straight up her spine. The hair at the back of her neck was standing on end. She felt her knees weaken.  
Bronn, noticing her reaction released her hand, his lips thinning, his eyes darkening. Petyr glanced quickly at her but his expression was unreadable. Bronn departed with a grunt leaving Sansa quite shaken. 

 

“Right. Good. Let’s get you settled in my dear,” Petyr said eventually, his eyes never leaving her. “Are you hungry?”  
“Not really. We had the meal at the airport when we landed,” Sansa replied regretfully. She would have preferred to sample Shirley’s cooking as the meal they had eaten earlier was decidedly underwhelming.  
“Perhaps a late supper then, Shirley?”  
“Of course, Stephen,” Shirley replied. “I will start preparations now. I will be in the back kitchen if you need me,” she explained as she hurried off.  
“I will grab the bags Stephen,” Colin offered.  
“Thank you Colin,” Petyr replied as he grabbed Sansa’s hand and walked her alongside the pool and sauna towards the master bedroom. Colin followed closely behind and deposited the bags inside the room. He smiled and left them alone.

 

A sudden realisation hit Sansa like a hammer blow.  
“Petyr, where am I going to be sleeping?” she asked a bit tremulously.  
“What do you mean, Sansa? You’re sleeping here, of course. With me.”  
Sansa swallowed thickly before replying.  
“Surely there are other bedrooms in the villa?”  
“Of course, there are three others. But Shirley and Colin believe we are newlyweds. Newlyweds on their honeymoon would hardly be sleeping in separate rooms now, would they? We have to keep up appearances.  
“I can’t Petyr,” she replied, her voice trembling.  
“Why not, Sansa?” he asked gently taking hold of her hands in his.  
“You know why,” she answered, tears now threatening.  
“Sshh, now,” he soothed, stroking the side of her face gently.  
“I won’t touch you. You know I would never hurt you. It is a super king size bed. We are both adults. I am sure we can share a big bed without encroaching upon each other. It won’t be the first time we’ve shared a bed. This will be no different.”  
But Petyr -”  
“Come now Sansa,” he said more firmly, “you are stronger than this. You have nothing to fear from me. You know that.”

 

Sansa sighed and moved away from him. She began to unpack her clothes, hanging them up in the large walk-in robe but did not speak any further to Petyr who continued to watch her while divesting himself of his blazer and unpacking his own bags. Sansa gathered up her toiletries and deposited them on the vanity unit of the bathroom. She moved to open the mirrored door of the wall mounted storage cabinet to organise her various bottles, packets and tubes. As she did so, she glanced briefly at her reflection in the mirror. So tired and pale.  
Suddenly Petyr materialised behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist drawing her close. Sansa stiffened and made her decision. She had to call him out on his behaviour; she had to draw a line in the sand before it was too late. Even if it meant he would eventually withdraw his assistance from her.

 

“Please my love. Don’t be upset with me. I hate seeing you like this.”  
“Petyr, I’m sorry. It’s just….I don’t know what you expect from me. Why did you bring me to this place? You could have taken me somewhere less… romantic.”  
“I wanted to take you somewhere special. You’ve been through such terrible experiences in your life. I just wanted to help you forget for a time. But perhaps I was being naïve,” he said sadly.  
Sansa turned to face him and cradled the side of his face with one hand.  
“I know how much you care for me and I do care for you too. And I don’t want to hurt you. But if you are thinking that something will happen between us here…then…I’m sorry, but I don’t love you like that Petyr. I’ve told you that before. Nothing’s changed.”  
Petyr sighed and took hold of her hand kissing her palm softly. She had never seen him look so resigned and dejected. He was usually so controlled.  
“I know that you don’t. You never have. I’m not expecting anything from you Sansa. But I will gladly take whatever you are willing to give me.”

 

She’d never heard him speak with such naked emotion before. He had practically prostrated himself at her feet with his declaration and it stunned her. At that moment he looked at her with such abject longing that she felt a stab of remorse in her chest. It hurt her to be the cause of someone else’s pain but especially this man who had done nothing but protect her and cherish her for years. She stroked the hair at his temples. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Without even understanding that she had moved she found herself stepping closer to him, her lips nearing his. His eyes re-opened as he tilted his head and closed the gap capturing her lips in a soft gentle kiss. He drew away and stared deeply into her eyes. Sansa swallowed thickly as he leaned in for another more passionate kiss, his tongue seeking entry to her mouth. His hands landed on her waist, his thumbs rubbing up and down at the sides of her stomach. 

 

She could feel herself responding physically to his touch and gasped as she felt his bulge pressing against her thigh. Warmth and tingling set in between her thighs but she found herself beginning to freeze up as she had so often in the past. He started to kiss a trail down her neck but was stopped by the silk scarf she still wore. Sansa started to panic when he began loosening the knot to gain more access to her skin. Suddenly Petyr stopped and dropped his hands from her. Sansa looked at their reflection in the mirror. He was staring fixedly at the bruise on her neck, left there by Stannis during their impassioned lovemaking. His eyes snapped up to meet hers. What she saw there made her cringe back in fright. His eyes were darkened and flashed with an anger and hurt and jealousy that he was unable to mask. Without another word he turned from her and strode swiftly out of the master bedroom and out to the pool area. He flung open the door to the car, slammed it noisily and waited for Bronn to release the gate before peeling down the driveway.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***TRIGGER WARNING *****  
> Ramsay warning. References to assault, sexual assault, rape, and torture. This chapter is VERY challenging. Please take care.

“Petyr!”  
BANG, BANG, BANG.  
“Petyr, let me in!”  
“Sansa, what are you doing here? You’re sopping wet.”  
Sansa hugged herself tight, rivulets of water pouring down her hair and face. Her teeth chattered and her knees shook with a combination of fear and cold.  
“Come inside, quickly. It’s so cold out here,” Petyr exclaimed as he took hold of her arm and pulled her through into his entry foyer.  
Sansa stood staring at him darkly. As he stepped closer to her she raised her arm and slapped him as resoundingly as she could in the face. His head snapped to the side as his hand flew to his reddened cheek, his eyes widened in shock.  
“Sansa, what -?”

 

Her lower lip began to tremble and her body shook as she sobbed convulsively, wrapping her arms around herself.  
“You bastard! You knew! You had to know! He hurt me, Petyr! He hurt me so much!” she wailed.  
“What did he do to you?” Petyr asked with a frown as he took a tentative step towards her.  
“NO!” she screamed as she retreated backwards from him. “Stay away from me. Don’t touch me.”  
“Sansa, please. Tell me what happened.”

 

She wiped angrily at her tears and sniffled, then her body stiffened; the voice that escaped her throat was alien, oddly devoid of emotion as she glared at the man in front of her. He began to shift on his feet nervously.  
“Oh, it was all wonderful at the start. He was every bit the loving boyfriend and the doting fiancé. He literally swept me off my feet and he was the first man since….. He couldn’t have been any more caring towards me. But slowly day by day it all changed. I found out he was seeing other women behind my back.”  
“Oh I am so sorry Sansa,” Petyr muttered sympathetically.  
She laughed mirthlessly, a dark edge to her tone. He stared at her perplexed.   
“You’re sorry. Do you think that’s why I am so upset, do you really Petyr? There is more to this story. So much more.”  
Petyr did not respond, only shifted his gaze to the floor briefly before meeting her stony gaze.

 

“When I told him I was calling off our engagement he beat me so badly that I had to go to hospital.”  
Petyr stared at her wide eyed as he replied in a small uncertain voice.  
I thought you fell from a horse.”  
“That’s what most people believed because I went along with the story. Ramsay told me he was sorry; that he had lost control over the thought that he was going to lose me and he couldn’t take it; that he had made a terrible mistake and that he would do anything if I could find some way to forgive him and take him back because he wouldn’t be able to go on without me. Like the gullible, naïve fool I was, I listened to him. As soon as he got me back to Bolton Manor he imprisoned me in a small dark bedroom with no windows for three weeks; he fed me very little and there was no heating. I also found out that he had certain personal….proclivities; certain appetites in the bedroom. Certain unnatural appetites.”  
Petyr swallowed noisily and stared at her in fear.

 

“I will spare you the finer details but let us just say that it was quite an education. An education in fear and pain and humiliation.”  
Petyr rubbed at his brow in consternation.  
“How did you get out?” he muttered.  
“Roose Bolton. He had been away on a business trip but came back and discovered what his son had been doing. In some ways the two of them are very alike but even he drew the line at Ramsay’s activities. He waited until Ramsay was at work one day and unlocked the door to the bedroom, told me to get out and run as far away as I could. He told me that if I ever spoke a word of what had happened to me he would hunt me down and kill me himself.”

 

“Oh, I haven’t told you about the cellar,” she added almost like an afterthought.  
“Cellar?” Petyr whispered, appearing decidedly unwell.  
“All of that….equipment. Ingenious implements of restraint, of suspension, of flagellation, of penetration and I got to experience every single one of them. Every night. Sometimes for hours. Until I could no longer scream, or stand or walk.”  
“Oh my God!” he gasped out as he wiped at his eyes and breathed raggedly.  
“And then there were the games.”  
“Enough Sansa!” he cried out. “I can’t hear anymore.”  
“No fucking way, Petyr!” she screamed, “You don’t get to just close your ears to me. You will hear all of it. Every last disgusting thing he did to me.”

 

Petyr groaned loudly and shook his head, his eyes tightly scrunched closed.  
“He would make me run naked through the estate and he would chase me down. When he caught me he would rape me on the ground where I lay. When he was finished he would take me down to the cellar and buckle me up in metal restraints and spread me wide. He’d sink his stinking cock or hand or something else entirely into me time and time again until I was bleeding. He would hit me, whip me, bite me, kick me, but most of all he would rape me, for hours on end. Other times he would start the stopwatch, drop his trousers and make me suck him off. If I didn’t make him come in time he would tie me up and bend me over a table…and….”

 

Suddenly the memories of Ramsay’s vile and depraved acts overwhelmed her and she broke down in a paroxysm of sobs.   
Petyr moved slowly towards her and reached out his arms to her.   
“Sansa. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. You must believe me,” he whispered tremblingly, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.  
“How could you not know about him, Petyr? How? You know everything. How could you be so wrong about him?” she sobbed.  
Petyr wrapped his arms around her but she screamed out and hit her fists against his chest.   
“NO! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO ME!”

 

Sansa continued to pummel at his chest but he held tight until she tired and slumped into him in exhaustion, her arms embracing him in turn as she gave full vent to her emotions. Her body shook with sobs as she pressed her face against his neck, her warm tears trickling down onto the collar of his shirt. He ran his fingers through her wet hair.  
“I hate you, I hate you, I hate you,” she continued to mumble into his neck as she gradually started to still.  
“I know you do, sweetheart,” he replied sadly. “Please. It was a mistake. A terrible, terrible mistake. I would never intentionally cause you pain. You know that. I will do everything I can to help you. I swear it. I will kill that son of a bitch if it’s the last thing I do. Anything you want, you will have it.”

 

Sansa drew away from him.  
“What if I want you to take a gun and shoot yourself in the head – now?” she asked coldly through her tears.  
Petyr stared at her wide eyed and took a deep breath.  
“Then I’ll do it.”  
She remained silent for a long time, scrutinising his eyes for any trace of duplicity.  
“Is that really what you want though?” he asked softly as he stroked the side of her face with his hand.  
After a moment of contemplation she whimpered in reply.  
“No. I don’t have anyone else left. I need you. I need you to help me now. Ramsay. He’ll come after me. He told me if I ever tried to run he would hunt me down and kill me. I can’t do this alone Petyr. Please help me.”  
Petyr clutched her to him and whispered fiercely into her ear.  
“I will always be here for you, Sansa. I will always save you. I will protect you until my dying day. I promise you that. Please trust me,” he pleaded.  
“I don’t know if I can trust you… not anymore.”  
“I will earn back your trust. I will show you. Every day if you’ll only let me. Now please you need to change out of those wet clothes before you catch a chill.”

 

Sansa allowed him to lead her up the staircase to the master bedroom ensuite. He grabbed her a set of his cotton pyjamas and ran a bath for her before closing the door and leaving her to her own devices. She practically swooned as she undressed and lowered herself into the soothing warmth of the tub, her sore and tired muscles relaxing instantly. She gently cleaned between her legs with a wash cloth and winced in pain when she made contact with her bruised and swollen flesh. She lathered some shampoo that Petyr had left for her into her hair and enjoyed the tingle in her scalp when she massaged it with her fingers. 

 

She had almost forgotten what a real bath felt like. Ramsay had locked her up in a small cold and drafty bedroom with an ensuite that only had a shower and quite often the hot water would run out while she was right in the middle of cleansing. After some time of luxuriating she hauled herself wearily from the tub, towelled herself dry and used the wall mounted hairdryer to dry her hair. She slipped on the pyjamas and trudged to the bed flinging herself into it and wrapping her arms around a spare pillow for comfort and security. She closed her eyes and allowed exhaustion to overtake her as she drifted into a troubled sleep.

***********

“Sansa, Sansa. Wake up. It’s me.”  
Petyr was sitting by her side shaking her awake. He wore only his pyjama pants, his lean toned chest bared.  
“What happened?”  
“You were screaming out in your sleep. I heard you from the guest bedroom downstairs.”  
Suddenly the details of the dream started to filter through to her consciousness. She flung her arms around Petyr and started to sob against his chest.  
“It was horrible, Petyr. Harry and Ramsay, together in the cellar they both…. I can’t….It was awful. Please, make it stop!” she wailed.  
Petyr smoothed his fingers through her hair and whispered soothing words in her ear until she calmed.  
“Sssh. It was just a dream. Harry is out of your life and Ramsay is never going to touch you again. I promise you that. I’m here. You’re safe with me.”  
After her tears started to dry he pushed her down gently onto the mattress.  
“Lie down sweetheart. Try to get some rest now,” he said as he tucked the doona around her and stood from the bed.  
“No, Petyr. Please. Don’t leave me alone. I’m scared. I need you,” she cried as she stretched out her arms to him.

 

Petyr hesitated for an instant then lowered himself into the bed to face her. They lay staring at each other for some moments before Petyr drew her closer, her face nestled in his sparse chest hair, his arms entwined around her.   
“Is this okay? I’m not scaring you am I?” he queried.  
“No Petyr. It feels nice. It reminds me of all the times I used to sneak out and visit you when I was a foster kid and when I first turned eighteen and came to live here. I used to have the bad dreams about my family and about Harry, what he did to me. You would crawl into bed with me and you would sing me back to sleep.”  
“I remember,” he replied with a small smile. “I don’t know if you remember this or not. You were only a little girl at the time but when your parents would sometimes drop you and the other kids off here so they could have time alone together, I would sing you to sleep then too.”  
“No, I don’t remember that at all,” she replied. “The lullaby you used to sing to me, why that one?”  
“My mother used to sing it to me when I was little. I don’t really remember her because she died when I was only four. But I do remember the sound of her voice,” he mused. “I can sing it now for you, if you like.”  
“Okay,” she replied snuggling her face into him further.

 

Hush, little baby, don't say a word,  
Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird.

And if that mockingbird don't sing,  
Papa's gonna buy you a diamond ring.

And if that diamond ring turns brass,  
Papa's gonna buy you a looking glass.

And if that looking glass is broke,  
Papa’s gonna buy you a billy goat.

 

As Sansa started to drift off Petyr hugged her close and lay a chaste kiss on her forehead. His voice lilted soft and low in her ear.  
“Sweet dreams my love.”


	30. Chapter 30

KNOCK, KNOCK

“Rebecca, it’s me, Shirley. Are you awake, dear?”  
Sansa sat up in the bed and rubbed at her eyes. It was dark in the room as she had closed the curtains across the large glass sliding doors for privacy before lying down on the bed. As her eyes adjusted she looked at the wall clock. It was 9pm.  
Hauling herself from the bed she opened the door and smiled wanly at the woman in front of her.  
“Sorry Shirley. I must have fallen asleep.”  
“Well, I imagine it’s been a long day of travelling for you. I’ve laid out your supper for you in the outdoor lounge. Stephen still has not returned from wherever it is he went.”  
“Oh,” Sansa mumbled. “Umm. He said he needed to pop into Water Gardens on an urgent business matter but I would have thought he would be back by now,” Sansa dissembled.  
“Not to worry. I can always reheat some food for him when he gets back,” Shirley offered.  
“Thank you Shirley. I’ll be out momentarily.”  
The woman departed with a smile while Sansa stepped into the ensuite to throw some cold water in her face. While she had clearly rested, her sleep was tormented by dream memories so she still felt quite fatigued. 

 

Walking through the villa to the lounge Sansa spied the sumptuous feast that Shirley had prepared for them. Shirley stood next to the dining table and gestured for her to seat herself at one end.   
“I hope you don’t mind but I wanted to walk you through what we have tonight.”  
“Of course I don’t mind, Shirley. It looks and smells amazing. Tell me about it.”  
The woman puffed up with pride.  
“This is a spiced pomegranate and vegetable pilaf – it is a Dornish specialty. Over here we have oven roasted whiskerfish with a caper and parsely butter sauce – it is a native fish to Dorne, sourced from the bed of Greenblood River. These are rice, herb and cheese stuffed dragon peppers grown locally. Lastly for dessert we have Dornish plums stewed in Hippocras with a Crème Anglaise and topped with a candlenut tuile.”

 

Sansa would have loved to show unrestrained enthusiasm for the beautiful spread in front of her but she was distracted by Petyr’s absence.   
“You’ve gone to so much trouble. I’m just sorry that you’ve made all this effort and Stephen isn’t here to share it with me.”  
Shirley sighed. “I’m sorry too. But I’m sure he will be along presently. I am sure he did not intend to leave his lovely young wife alone for so long on the first night of her honeymoon.”  
Sansa had to repress a cringe.  
“Anyway,” the woman continued, “I hope you enjoy. Please let me know if you require anything further.”  
“Thank you so much Shirley. I can’t tell you how wonderful this is.”

 

Shirley departed and left Sansa to enjoy her supper. She took a serving spoon and piled some pilaf on the plate and helped herself to a fillet of the fish. Everything was beautifully spiced and seasoned and cooked to perfection but somehow she just could not appreciate it. Where was Petyr? What was he thinking? He must be very hurt and upset with her to have left her alone like this in a strange place for so long. And she couldn’t blame him. What had possessed her to kiss him like that? It was as though an unseen hand had pushed her towards him. She couldn’t blame him for escalating the contact. What if he has abandoned her? What would she do? Where would she go? Would she ever be able to leave this place? But most of all she felt empty and lonely as she stared listlessly at her supper. Sighing loudly she continued to eat and poured herself a glass of Dornish red, fingering the stem of the glass absently as she took the occasional mouthful. Bronn walked along the perimeter of the fence on one of his patrols but moved on without even deigning to look in her direction. She breathed a big sigh of relief.

 

After some time the rental car pulled up to the gate and Petyr reached out his hand to press the intercom. Sansa heard the click of the gate and watched as the car slowly approached and parked in front of the building. Petyr stepped from the car and stood staring at her for a long moment before approaching. Sansa rose from her chair and closed the gap between them. She couldn’t decipher any clear emotion in his face but he looked tired and drawn.   
“Where have you been Petyr? I was worried about you,” she asked gently.  
“Driving around. Thinking,” he replied stiffly.  
“What about?”   
“Us.”  
Sansa took hold of his hand. As she did so she thought she detected a brief shift in his gaze, a fleeting look of pain.

 

“I’m sorry Petyr. I know I’ve hurt you. Won’t you forgive me?”  
Petyr sighed loudly. “You haven’t done anything wrong Sansa or anything that warrants my forgiveness for that matter. You care for another man. I was a fool to believe that you would return my love for you.”  
“I do care about you and I missed you when you were gone. Won’t you sit with me and have something to eat and talk to me?” she pleaded.  
He narrowed his eyes at her.  
“Did you miss me really, I wonder, or were you more concerned that I had abandoned you?”  
She knew he was much too perceptive to accept an untruth from her so she gave him an honest response. She reached out to stroke her fingers through his hair.  
“While it is true that I was terrified that you had left me here all alone I also missed my friend and it pained me to think of you out there somewhere hurt and angry because of me. I never wanted to hurt you and yes, I missed you and I am very glad to see you back.”  
The tension in Petyr’s body seemed to relax slightly as he took her hand in his.  
“You know I would never leave you alone, Sansa.”

 

She gave him a small smile and led him to the chair at the opposite end of the table to her own and gestured for him to sit. She served up some of the food on a plate for him and leaned down to kiss him chastely on the cheek.  
“Please, eat. The food is delicious. Shirley has gone to a lot of trouble.”   
She poured him a glass of wine and handed it to him.  
“Are you trying to get me drunk, wife,” he japed.  
She was about to castigate him but saw the slight smirk on his face and gifted him with a smile in return. She was relieved to see the return of his good humour although it was somewhat subdued.  
They ate their meal in silence, topping up their wine glasses from time to time until the bottle was empty. Petyr glanced up at her occasionally but his face was a blank mask. She knew that he was still in the throes of some internal struggle but was fighting hard against it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’ve had a lot of Sansa and Petyr lately. But I haven’t forgotten about our dynamic duo back in KL, particularly our loveable hunk of a man pining away for our heroine. So, next will be a bit of Stannis for you – actually it’s one of the longer chapters. We get to know a little more about his backstory with women and exactly what makes him tick. I hope that if you haven’t already fallen head over heels for him, you do so after reading the next chapter.


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, a nice long chapter featuring Stannis POV. Hope you enjoy.

Stannis sighed as he ran his hands roughly through his hair and stared listlessly at the blank wall in front of him. Davos had not wanted to leave his friend alone after the dreadful revelations about Sansa and Baelish so he had stayed and had desperately attempted to distract him with a game of chess, one of Stannis’s favourite pastimes. Usually their matches were punctuated by Davos’s mumbled curses of “fuck” or “fuckity fuck” or “seven fucking buggering hells” or “fucking fuck” as he progressively lost his pieces. So it would go on with endless permutations until invariably Stannis would checkmate with a smug look on his face, lean back in his chair and wait for the very loud onslaught of real curses from the frustrated older man. Tonight, for the first time, Davos had prevailed but he knew it was an empty victory due to Stannis’s emotional state. Stannis frowned in frustration.  
“Hell of a way to win a chess game, hey?” Davos asked quietly as he took a final swig from his imported beer.  
“Yep, and hell of a way to lose one,” Stannis answered as he emptied his glass of sparkling water. “Look, I appreciate you being here like this but I think I need some time alone now.”

 

Davos looked at him with concern but gave him a brief nod in acknowledgement, clapping him on the shoulder as he rose from his chair.  
“I should make a move anyway or Marya’s going to rip me a new one. I know it’s hard for you right now but just try to focus on the fact that Sansa is a very strong woman who can handle herself. We’ll be on our way to Dorne tomorrow and we’ll get to the bottom of all of this. We’ll find her. I promise you,” he stated earnestly.  
Stannis nodded in response but remained silent, his scowl etched firmly into his face.  
Davos smirked at him before walking towards the front door.  
“I didn’t know you were such a sore loser, by the way.”  
“Fuck off Seaworth,” Stannis retorted with a grunt. 

 

As the front door closed he sat for some time and then stood and approached the bar. On the counter sat an almost full decanter of scotch which he kept expressly for Robert’s visits. Stannis seldom drank and on the rare occasions he did, never to excess. But tonight he was fighting the urge to get rotten stinking drunk. He needed to numb his senses and erase from his mind the constant mental images that assaulted him when he thought about Sansa’s past traumas and the fact that she was now alone in one of the most romantic locales in Westeros with a paedophilic monster. He could picture it so clearly. Soft sands, blue skies, warm water caressing them as they came together. Baelish’s hands on her, his lips claiming hers, her sweet sighs and moans as he moved his body against hers. 

 

His jaw clenched tight and his hand trembled as it reached out and gripped the decanter like a vice.  
“FUCK! DAMN IT!” he cursed loudly as he hurled the decanter with all his might at the nearby wall.  
It shattered into a million pieces, the golden liquid inside spraying everywhere and trailing down the wall to form a puddle on the tiled floor. Usually his virtually OCD preoccupation with cleanliness and order would have screamed for him to sweep up the mess immediately but he didn’t give one fuck. Stannis gripped his hair in his hands and squeezed his eyes tight but this time he could not keep the tears at bay.  
“Shit,” he mumbled as he wiped at his eyes angrily and walked over to the coffee table to fetch his car keys. 

 

He fired up the Bentley and cruised through the streets not knowing or caring where he would end up until finally he found himself at the carpark of the beach where he had taken Sansa on their first and potentially only date. He sat for some time staring out at the crashing waves, his hands riveted to the steering wheel. Eventually he bent down and untied his shoelaces and removed his socks before stepping from the car and making his way to the soft sand of the beach. As he walked towards the cove he could almost feel her small warm hand curled in his as it had been that night. As he reached the cove he sat himself down in the spot they had spread their blanket and his mind wandered to their conversation. 

 

“This is a first for me.”  
“What is? Eating fish and chips at night on the beach?”  
“No. Well, yes. But I meant drinking champagne straight out of the bottle.”  
“Oh go on. Take a walk on the wild side.”  
“You first.”  
“You’re such a coward. Cheers big ears.” 

 

Despite his inner turmoil he felt his face relax into a fond smile at the memory as he sighed loudly. He knew in that moment that whatever happened he would never love anyone the way he loved Sansa. Her soul must be so damaged, so tortured and yet she was sweet and sassy and funny. She had said that she had ‘really liked’ him but he had to believe it went much deeper than that. He had seen it in her eyes, heard it in her voice. And he had to believe that with her previous experiences and her obvious and now completely understandable apprehension when they made love, she would never have let him anywhere near her at all if there hadn’t been a very real, deep connection. A connection, for his part, that he had never felt with any other woman that he had been involved with.

 

He found his thoughts turning to Selyse. Before he met her he had been in a string of dead end relationships with very attractive women who pursued him primarily for social position and wealth. Robert had appointed himself the director of Stannis’s love life and insisted on matchmaking him with young beautiful woman that entered his sphere, after of course making his own selections. Renly had rarely intervened; he was more of a bemused spectator. Stannis had tried to resist but it was very difficult to withstand his older brother’s constant onslaught. Sometimes it was just easier to give in to Robert. 

 

Every time one of these involvements inevitably ended in humiliation and hurt, he swore to himself that he would never be with another woman again. Everyone considered him cold and stern but deep inside he craved a real connection with someone who he could devote himself entirely to and who would return his love equally. But it seemed entirely unlikely that it would ever come to pass, until Selyse entered his life.

 

She was the daughter of a prominent King’s Landing politician. She was whip smart and ambitious like her father, confident and feisty. She had been attractive in her younger years but that wasn’t the primary reason Stannis had been drawn to her. Apart from her strong personal qualities she seemed to want the same things as he did: stability, security, a family, a genuine, honest relationship. Slowly he had let his guard down and began to fall in love with her and he had thought, she with him. But it had all been a lie. She had been no different to all the others except that she had been more cunning about it and had played the long term game. But then what would one really expect from the daughter of a politician? 

 

Almost as soon as they had married she had started to pressure him for a child. Stannis wanted nothing more than to be a father but didn’t feel that they were ready. They were both strong-willed people, very set in their ways; he wanted them to adjust to each other and strengthen their relationship further before adding a child to the mix but she would not compromise. She continued to wear him down day by day with her insistent demands. Stannis finally surrendered and agreed to try for a child. Unfortunately after some six months of unprotected sex they still had not conceived. The constant failure put a tremendous strain on an already challenged relationship. They eventually consulted a fertility expert and after tests, Selyse was diagnosed with blocked fallopian tubes. After surgery to repair the tubes and quite an extended recovery period, Selyse finally conceived and 39 weeks later beautiful angelic Shireen came into the world. 

 

That is also when the marriage started to run into deep trouble. Selyse began to neglect her appearance and cleanliness and her moods would swing alarmingly. Stannis put it down to a difficult pregnancy and the demands of looking after a newborn. It didn’t help that she had been unable to breastfeed Shireen due to a lack of milk production which had made her feel like a failure as a mother even though Stannis tried hard to reassure her to the contrary. He gave her more help with the nappy changes, feeding and bathing and took on more of the day to day chores to alleviate her stress. Shireen was a colicky baby and fussed and screamed all day and all night. The exhaustion from lost sleep, escalating demands at home and at work and Selyse’s increasingly erratic and shrewish behaviour left Stannis exhausted and depressed. He finally felt he had no choice but to hire a nanny to take some of the load, something he had been resisting, being determined that they raise their own child and not leave her in the hands of a veritable stranger. It turned out to be a regrettable decision. 

 

Selyse consequently found herself with more time on her hands. She went on shopping trips frequently and spent inordinate amounts of money on clothing and jewellery. Stannis didn’t mind the expenditure as long as it gave his wife some degree of happiness but she was still always so snappy around him. They had not made love since Shireen’s conception, Selyse always begging off due to illness or exhaustion. Every time she pushed him away a little bit of his soul withered and died. 

 

As time passed she began to dress more elegantly and her hair and makeup was always perfect before she left the house. And she left the house often, particularly in the evenings. She spent very little time with her daughter. She would return late at night with no explanation other than that she needed time out with friends now and then or she would go mad. When Stannis pressed her she would fly into a rage and strike out at him, both verbally and physically. He was hurt, he was angry but he continued to make excuses for her behaviour reasoning that his wife had been through all of the hurdles of trying to conceive, a difficult pregnancy and a healthy dose of postnatal depression. When he gently suggested they should seek counselling she flew off the deep end and stormed from the house. She did not return for two days. 

 

When she returned she informed him that she had fallen in love with another man and that the marriage was over. Even though he was furious and incredibly hurt by her betrayal he desperately begged her to reconsider. He would do anything she wanted. Couldn’t they just try and make it work, for their sake and Shireen’s? But it appeared that she had extracted everything she wanted from him and would not hear his pleas. She had packed her bags, taken Shireen and left him with the shattered remnants of his life. He had cried when his parents died in a car accident when he was a teenager, he had cried when he held Shireen for the first time and he cried as he watched his six month old daughter and the woman he thought had loved him fade from his life. 

 

The divorce trial was long and complicated because of the extensive assets involved and malicious due to Selyse’s apparent wish to destroy him completely. She had accused him of having an affair with the nanny he had hired and had apparently convinced the nanny to back her story, likely by some sort of financial inducement. She denied having had an affair herself and claimed that Stannis was merely paranoid and jealous and was trying to deceive the court with false allegations. She had won a considerable settlement, and a very generous alimony, not that Stannis had any issue with providing for his daughter. However he resented the fact that Shireen would likely not be the primary beneficiary of the money due to Selyse’s insatiable greed which was becoming increasingly apparent. 

 

But that was not the worst of it. Selyse sued for sole custody of Shireen. He could have forgiven his ex-wife many things, but not that. Despite attempts by Selyse to accuse Stannis of neglect of his daughter and emotional abuse of herself, Stannis would not be bested a second time, especially as his daughter’s future was at stake. He came armed with the best legal team that money could buy, an iron will and the strength of the truth. The court deliberated and settled on a 50/50 custodial arrangement. Not to be outdone, Selyse married the man with whom she had been having the affair and moved to Seagard in the Riverlands. Stannis brought the matter up before the courts arguing that with his responsibilities to the family company preventing him from leaving King’s Landing, his parental rights were being curtailed by Selyse’s relocation, but he was unsuccessful. As a result he saw his daughter much less frequently than he wished, a crushing devastating blow.

 

After Selyse, Stannis avoided any prolonged involvement with women, despite vociferous and constant pleas from Robert and Renly for him to forget about his damned cunt of an ex-wife and get on with his life. But his spirit had been broken. He went on the occasional date which usually ended with an empty and completely unsatisfying sexual episode devoid of any real passion. His last such assignation had been with Melisandre almost 2 years ago with whom he foolishly had a string of dates. She was an incredibly attractive woman with a voracious sexual appetite and at the time it was just what he thought he needed. Nothing more than the satiation of pure physical needs with no emotional attachment. But she had turned out to be cruel, possessive and ever so slightly deranged. He had called things off with her and then had closed himself off to intimacy altogether, protecting his bruised and battered self behind an armour of coldness and unapproachability. 

 

But along came Sansa who had systematically managed to dismantle his defences. Despite his best efforts to prevent it with his reprehensible and shoddy treatment of her, she had persisted and penetrated his steely exterior to glimpse the man that once was and that perhaps he could once again become. She had forgiven him for his cold stern words when forgiveness was not deserved and offered him a ray of hope in an otherwise dark and gloomy existence. She had taken the cold flint of his heart and had sparked it into flame with her sweet words and her strong spirited defence of his honour. No woman had ever done that for him before. And he loved her for it. But fate had once again been cruel and had removed the light and fire from his life leaving him cold, empty and alone.

 

He stood and stared out at the waves as they crashed noisily against the shore, a gentle breeze ruffling his hair.  
“I will always be here to save you, Sansa, as you have saved me. I love you,” he whispered into the cool night air. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers and slowly walked back up the beach to his car.


	32. Chapter 32

As the night wore on Sansa began to feel quite overheated. The weather was a lot hotter than she was accustomed to with her Northern blood and the overhead ceiling fans did little to cool her down. The second bottle of wine that they had opened had only served to heat her up further. Petyr enjoyed the hot weather so he annoyingly looked as cool and composed as ever.  
“Petyr. Is it just me or is it getting really hot in here.”  
“It’s just you dear. Why don’t you take a dip in the pool to cool down? I’ll use the spa. My muscles are a bit stiff from the travel. It might help me loosen up a bit.”  
Sansa stood from her chair and felt a wave of dizziness hit her as the wine and heat combined to unbalance her.  
“Oops,” she giggled as she steadied herself with her hands on the chair. “That sounds like a great idea. I’ll just go get changed.”  
“Of course. I’ll wait here until you’re ready.” 

 

Sansa moved to the bedroom and opened up a drawer in the walk in robe where she had stashed her swimwear. She ignored the scandalously skimpy sky blue bikini that Ros had purchased for her in favour of the much more modest one piece she had brought along. As she shimmied into the garment and pulled one of the shoulder straps up she gasped as she heard a loud creak and felt the thin strap part company with the fabric of the suit.  
Oh shit, that’s just great, she cursed internally. What the hell do I do now? I can’t go out there in that bikini. 

 

She returned to the drawer and pulled out the bikini top and bottom eyeing them with dread. Nothing more than little scraps of fabric held together by spaghetti thin strings. She’d never worn anything that revealing in her life. She pulled on the bikini bottoms and tied the top and moved to the mirror to study her reflection.   
Jesus, this leaves very little to the imagination, she thought as she surveyed her almost fully exposed breasts, her barely covered mound and arse cheeks. Returning to the wardrobe, she chose a t-shirt from her stash but unfortunately she had nothing oversized. It was fitted and left her midriff partially exposed. She tried on the shorts that Petyr had arranged for her over the bikini bottoms but she felt slightly uncomfortable and restricted in them and they really didn’t cover all that much more than the bikini bottoms. She discarded them and made do with the t-shirt as cover up.

 

She took a deep breath, grabbed a towel from the ensuite and opened up the sliding door of the bedroom, stepping out on to the decking. She walked around to the side of the pool acutely aware of Petyr staring fixedly at her as she did so. She dove into the astonishingly cool refreshing water and swam underwater until she reached the opposite wall. She was about to call out to Petyr when she noticed that he had left the room, presumably to change into his swimwear. She floated around on her back for some time relishing the soothing coolness of the water, the incessant chirrup of crickets and the strident calls of the mysterious and unseen night creatures of Dorne.

 

Eventually she heard the noise of the jets as Petyr turned on the spa. She looked across to spy him dressed in black cropped swim briefs, his lithe toned physique lowering slowly into the water. He had placed two full glasses of wine on the decking next to him. He sat with his back against the wall of the spa, his arms spread across the edge, his head tilted back, his eyes closed in relaxed bliss. There was now a stiff breeze and the air around them had cooled appreciably; Sansa was starting to feel a little cold. She shivered as she made her way to the side of the pool and lifted herself out. She glanced across at Petyr who had levelled his gaze right at her and was staring at her intently. She realised that the thin fabric of the bikini top and the tight t-shirt did absolutely nothing to conceal her now hardened nipples. She crossed her arms over her chest reflexively.

 

“Are you cold, Sansa? Come over here and join me; the water is lovely and warm,” he suggested.  
Sansa hesitated.  
“I won’t bite. Not unless you want me to,” he joked with a smirk.  
Against her better judgement she moved towards him and lowered herself down in the water to face him. Petyr reached across to hand her one of the wine glasses.  
“I’m not so sure I should be drinking any more wine Petyr.”  
“What do you think I am going to do my love? Ravish you in your inebriation?”  
Sansa did not reply but blushed hotly and could not meet his gaze.  
“I am many things Sansa but I am not a rapist,” he said gently. “You have nothing whatsoever to fear from me.”  
Sansa relaxed and accepted the glass of wine from him, taking a small sip and placing it on the decking next to her.

 

“Do you want to know where I went today?” Petyr asked her.  
“Well, I sort of assumed that you went to Water Gardens given how long you were gone.”  
“No, I took a trip to the beach that I told you about. It was even more amazing than I was told. Pure white sand, so many palm trees, the water is a beautiful shade of blue. Like your eyes,” he added.  
Sansa felt another flush to her cheeks and dropped her gaze.   
“When will you take me there?” she asked eventually.  
“Tomorrow, if you wish to go.”  
Sansa smiled a genuine smile. The pool was wonderful but the beach was her true love.  
“Yes, please. I can’t wait,” she said sincerely.  
Petyr returned her smile and approached her slowly taking her hand in his.  
“That is the first real smile I have seen from you in a very long time. Please don’t let it be the last. I’ve missed it.”

 

Suddenly Petyr stiffened and winced clutching at his shoulder.  
“What is it, what’s wrong?” Sansa asked worriedly.  
“Damn shoulder always plays up. It’s the one that I dislocated as a child. I think I told you about it.”  
“Yes, I remember. I’ve helped you with it before. Turn around.”  
Petyr turned his back to her while Sansa proceeded to knead his Trapezius muscle. Petyr groaned in appreciation and as his body relaxed into her, his back pressed against Sansa’s hardened nipples, eliciting an audible gasp from her. He froze and then turned slowly to face her, his eyes darkened with longing. She stared back in apprehension. He closed the small gap between them and crushed her up against the wall of the spa. She whimpered as his fingers entangled in her hair, one of his legs parting hers to give him more access, his hardened member pressing directly against her sex. He stared straight into her eyes, his breathing heavy, his lips all but touching hers. As he leaned closer he must have seen something in her eyes that gave him pause. He dropped his hands from her and slowly but reluctantly retreated.   
“Forgive me. I should not have touched you.”

 

Sansa was panting rapidly, her lips parted, her face flushed. She could not look him in the eye. As he walked up the stairs from the spa Sansa could not help but notice his pronounced erection. He walked rapidly into the bedroom ensuite closing the door leaving Sansa to recover from his advances. A part of her was frightened but another part of her realised, to her dismay, that her body had responded to the contact. She had felt a tingling and a flood of warmth between her thighs when Petyr’s cock had rubbed up against her. She was confused and ashamed and felt that her body had betrayed her. Worse, her body had betrayed Stannis. But, she concluded, she had betrayed Stannis from the moment they first met, that was the truth. Nothing that she did or said now would change that fact and the reality that he was permanently lost to her now. She began to weep quietly in her confusion and dejection as she dragged herself wearily from the spa and picked up her towel wrapping herself in it before entering the bedroom. She could hear the water running in the shower so she removed herself to the lounge to give Petyr some privacy.

 

After some time she began to shiver from the chill in the air and returned to the bedroom. The light had been switched off and Petyr lay facing the wall, the top sheet and light quilt curled around him. He was completely still and did not respond to her entering the room. She could not be sure if he was asleep or merely pretending. She walked to the robe and removed a set of pyjama shorts and top and quickly bathed before drying off and changing into them. She brushed her teeth and combed through her hair before making her way to her side of the bed. She swallowed thickly and tugged gently at the sheet and quilt so she could wriggle in underneath them. Still there was no movement from him. 

 

She faced away from him and curled up in the foetal position. She was so close to him and yet she felt so wretched and alone in the darkness in this unfamiliar place. Despite her best efforts warm salty tears started to trace down her face, wetting the pillow underneath her. She tried to stifle a sniffling little gasp but wasn’t entirely successful. She felt a stirring beside her and stiffened when a pair of strong arms enveloped her and the warm wisp of breath stirred at her neck underneath her earlobe. He planted a gentle kiss there and hugged her close as she relaxed into him and slowly drifted off.  
“Sweet dreams my love.”


	33. Chapter 33

“Sansa, over here.”  
“What? Petyr, is that you?” Sansa asked as she narrowed and shaded her eyes against the glare of the sun with one hand trying to discern the occupant of the car. She looked around quickly at the other students sauntering towards their parents’ cars and a chattering line of children waiting to board the school bus at the nearby stop.  
“Yes, it’s me. Won’t you come here for a moment?”  
Sansa looked back at the bus stop. Most of the other kids had already boarded.  
“I can’t. I have to catch the bus,” she responded.  
“I’ll take you home. I haven’t seen you in a while. I just want to spend a little bit of time with you. I’ve missed you.”

 

The bus doors closed and the vehicle steered out onto the road. What could it hurt? She had missed the bus anyway now and besides she didn’t mind her Uncle’s company. In fact she realised she had missed him too; she had been busy with preparing for her exams and hadn’t had the time to organise any meetings with him recently. She enjoyed their time together because he treated her as a mature adult, not the damaged, insecure and fragile almost seventeen year old that everyone else saw. Her foster parents wouldn’t be home for another couple of hours so it wasn’t like she didn’t have the time to spare.

 

She opened the door and plonked herself down untidily in the passenger seat of the car. As she did her skirt rode up her thighs. As she secured her belt she noticed and started to pull the skirt down. The man beside her had not uttered a word and from her peripheral vision she noticed that he had remained completely immobile. She glanced across at him. He was staring straight ahead but his breathing was heavy and he gripped the steering wheel with whitened knuckles.  
“Is something wrong Petyr?”  
His grip on the wheel loosened and he turned to regard her, his characteristic smirk quirking up the lips at one side of his face deepening his dimple; his eyes were unreadable.  
“Nothing at all, dear. I am very pleased to see you. I have missed you very much you know.”  
“I’ve missed you too Petyr.”

 

And it was true. He was the only family she had left in the world. Her only real friend. She had learned upon her family’s death that her uncle had been accused of some terrible acts towards her but she had absolutely no recollection of them. On the contrary he had always been so kind to her. During one of their meetings around the time he was attempting to gain custody of her, he had explained how the accusations had been entirely baseless and that the law had found him blameless. When the decision for custody went against him nonetheless, she had cried but he had kissed away her tears and assured her that if she ever needed him he would be there. And he was. On her Name Day and on other special occasions he would engineer some way to meet with her and would shower her with affection and expensive gifts. 

 

On her fifteenth Name Day he bought her an exquisite white gold and diamond ring hanging on a chain.  
“Perhaps when you are a little older you can wear the ring on your finger,” he had suggested as he draped the necklace around her neck and fastened the clasp.  
She had hugged him then and given him a chaste little kiss on the cheek. He had hugged her close and told her he loved her. He had given her his phone number and his home address and she had often run to him in her continued grief and despair at the loss of her family and her crushing loneliness. His warm strong arms had always been open, his lips full of soothing words as he calmed her with long gentle strokes of his fingers through her hair.

 

During the days of Harry’s rape trial Petyr had been there every day. He would slip in a little after the commencement of proceedings and would sit right at the back of the courtroom in the public gallery, his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses. He would nod his head very slightly at her in support as the Hardyngs’ defence lawyer systematically attempted to assassinate her character. She was damaged by what had happened to her in the past; she had no understanding of personal and sexual boundaries; she was very sexualised for her age; she had consented but after the act had regretted the decision and had attempted to besmirch Harrold’s reputation. 

 

As Sansa sat numbly in her seat while the filthy tide of the lawyer’s slurs washed over her she would look over at Petyr and while she could not see his eyes through the dark glasses she could detect the tension in his body, as he leaned forward, his chin in his hands, his lips pressed together in a thin line. She could sense his encouragement when she answered the lawyer’s questions in a trembling voice. When the prosecution lawyer’s much gentler questions still forced her to relive the terrible events of that night she pretended that Petyr was holding her hand and she knew that he wished he could be right there next to her on the stand. It was what gave her the strength to endure.

 

After the rape she was relocated to live with another family – a very kind and sensitive couple in their early fifties with two grown children of their own. The state had organised counselling sessions for her and they had been of some help to her but she craved a genuine human connection with someone she knew really cared for her, not just out of professional obligation or charitable intent. The first time she visited Petyr at his home after the trial a couple of weeks had passed. She had not rung him beforehand so when he opened the door he stood stunned and then pulled her inside, closed the door and embraced her, crushing his face into her neck. She could feel his warm wet tears trailing down her skin.

 

“My brave beautiful girl. I’m so sorry. What he did to you…. I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t be there…” His voice was rough with emotion.  
“Don’t cry Uncle Petyr. It’s okay now. He’s gone. Thanks to you.”  
“What do you mean?” he asked a little perplexed. “I didn’t do anything.”  
“If you hadn’t been in that courtroom with me every day I wouldn’t have been able to cope. Harry would have walked out scot free.”  
“Oh Sansa,” he replied as he held her chin in his hand. “You are so much stronger than you know. You didn’t need me in there. He did not break you. The system didn’t break you. If anything this has made you so much stronger.”

 

“I know you think that’s true Uncle Petyr but you are always there for me. Thank you. Thank you so much,” she murmured as she hugged him close.  
He smoothed her hair and then cradled her face with one hand.  
“Won’t you call me Petyr, sweetheart? We are friends more than uncle and niece after everything that’s happened, don’t you think?”  
“Okay Petyr,” she replied shyly.  
“I love you Sansa,” he whispered as he lightly brushed his lips across her forehead.  
“I love you too Petyr,” she answered as she nuzzled her head under his chin.

 

“So how is it working out with the Johnsons,” Petyr asked her as he drove slowly through the school peak hour traffic.  
“It’s okay. They’re a nice couple and they’re kind to me.”  
“I’m sensing a ‘but’ here,” he prompted.  
Sansa sighed loudly.  
“They’re not my real family. They’re trying really hard, maybe too hard. It’s not that I’m not grateful. Of course I am. Especially after what happened at the Hardyng’s. And I know things could be one whole hell of a lot worse but….”  
“Tell me Sansa. What is it?”

 

“I really want to live with you, Petyr,” she replied in a small voice.  
“Oh sweetheart,” he mumbled, “I want that more than anything. You have no idea. I’ve tried time and time again to change the court’s mind but they’re not having it. They have convinced themselves that I entail too much of a potential risk to your welfare. After what’s happened with Hardyng that is even more the case than it was previously.”  
“That is so unfair. You didn’t do anything wrong. If I had been with you none of this would have happened.”  
“I know, but there is nothing we can do to change this Sansa. I’m sorry. You know if I could I would do anything to have you with me,” he said grasping her hand in his.  
She gave his hand a gentle squeeze in return. He lifted her fingers to his lips and kissed them as he continued to watch the road.

 

“Petyr?”  
“Yes, honey?”  
“When I turn eighteen I can decide where I want to live, right?”  
“Absolutely you can, and once your inheritance is sorted out you can pretty much live anywhere you want. I’ll help you with all the legal matters when the time comes,” he offered.  
“So, there’s nothing to stop me from living with you then, is there?”  
Petyr slowed, put on the indicator and steered the car to the side of the road, coming to a stop. He killed the ignition and turned to face her.  
“You would want to do that?”  
“Yes. That is, if you want me to. I know I will be an adult then and you shouldn’t feel obliged or like you have to take me in or anything.”  
“Are you kidding?” he laughed delightedly, “What do you mean obliged? Of course I want you to come and live with me. I was going to suggest it when we were a little closer to the time but I wasn’t sure you would say yes. Oh, sweetheart, you don’t know how happy you’ve made this old man.”  
“You’re not old Petyr. Not really.”  
“Oh thanks for that overwhelming compliment,” he chuckled.  
“Sorry,” she blushed. “You know what I mean. So, it’s a done deal then?” she asked sticking out her hand.  
“Done and fucking dusted,” he replied with a smirk as he shook her hand.

 

Sansa laughed at the sudden obscenity as Petyr restarted the engine and rejoined the traffic.  
“Until then, Sansa, you have my number. Call me and we can arrange time to be together. Anytime you want, okay? But we have to keep it mum, for the obvious reasons.”  
“Sure, thanks Petyr,” she replied, as the car slowed and came to a stop just down the road from the Johnsons’ house.  
“I’ll leave you here.”  
“Thanks for the ride Petyr. And for everything,” she said as unbuckled her seatbelt and leant over to give him a kiss on the cheek. Petyr moved at the last minute and caught her lips with his, bringing his hand behind her head and pressing her closer. Sansa allowed the kiss but pushed gently at his chest, her eyes wide and unblinking. He dropped his hand from her and moved away studying her intently.  
“You’re welcome Sansa,” he whispered eventually.  
She stepped from the car and stood there staring as it slowly made its way down the street. She called him a few days later.


	34. Chapter 34

Sansa stirred as a particularly strident and persistent birdcall sounded from the pool area outside. A chink of early morning light sneaked through a gap in the curtains. Petyr still lay with his arms around her, his breathing soft, deep and regular against her neck indicating that he was still asleep. As she lifted from the fog of sleep she froze in shock as she felt the nudge of Petyr’s morning erection right between her arse cheeks. She blushed furiously and tried as slowly and carefully as she could to move away from him. He moaned and pulled her closer, his cock snuggling even more firmly against her. One of his hands shifted up her stomach to rest on her left breast, while the other slipped down to her mound.  
“Petyr,” she gasped as she strained against him.   
Petyr shifted slightly and opened his eyes.   
“Oh, shit. Sorry love,” he muttered still half asleep as he relinquished his hold on her.  
Sansa shot from the bed and ran to the ensuite slamming the door noisily behind her. She sat on the edge of the bath tub and tried to calm herself. Petyr had never touched her so blatantly before and it had scared her. At the same time she had felt a physical urge to return the contact. She was so confused and ashamed that tears started to brim in her eyes.  
What the hell is wrong with me, she thought.

 

After some time, there was a light knocking at the door.  
“Sansa, sweetheart. Come out. I’m sorry. I didn’t know what I was doing. I was asleep. Come on.”  
Sansa did not respond. She wasn’t sure if she could face him.  
“Please, don’t do this. You know I would never touch you like that on purpose. Think about it. How many times have we been alone in similar circumstances? Have I ever done anything like that before?”  
She thought about it. She had handed him many opportunities to take advantage of her in the past and yet he had always restrained himself. Disturbingly however, his restraint seemed to be faltering, his advances becoming bolder as they had been in the spa. Yet, she acknowledged she was the one to initiate the kiss in the bathroom earlier in the day and while he could have taken her last night he had clearly sensed her anxiety and had stopped himself. What disturbed her most was that she wasn’t entirely sure she would have tried to resist if he hadn’t. With a trembling exhale she stood and opened the door. Petyr looked genuinely contrite as he stood in front of her. He had taken the time to dress in readiness for their trip to the beach so she did not feel threatened by his earlier semi-nakedness.

 

“Do you forgive me, my love?” he asked with a small tentative smile.  
“Yes, Petyr. Sorry. I over-reacted. It’s just… what happened in the spa last night. And then this. I was a bit confused.”  
He ruffled his hand through his unruly hair and exhaled noisily, appearing somewhat abashed.  
“I cannot make excuses for what happened in the spa last night. A very emotional day, too much wine, a very beautiful woman in front of me. I’m afraid that although I am capable of a lot of control there is a limit. It was wrong of me to touch you like that. But you must believe that I would never force myself on you. You do not want me. I know that. I will always respect your wishes.”  
His voice betrayed the extent of his sadness and feelings of rejection as his gaze lowered and he started to turn from her. Sansa feeling instantly sorry for his pain grabbed his wrist.  
“Wait. Come here,” she said as she drew him closer and embraced him gently.   
“Thank you,” she whispered in his ear. She kissed him lightly on the cheek and drew away from him.   
She tried to read the emotion in his face but it betrayed nothing. 

 

After consuming a light breakfast of wholemeal pancakes and a salad made from local tropical fruits Sansa and Petyr packed a blanket, towels and a picnic basket that Shirley had put together for them into the boot of the rental and made their way to the beach. It was a glorious day, warm but not too hot with a light sea breeze. As Petyr turned the car into a partially concealed narrow gravel road that snaked towards the shoreline Sansa felt her excitement grow as she noticed the change in the vegetation and that she could now see a strip of the deep blue waters of the Sea of Dorne at the line of the horizon over the top of the stunted growth. 

 

As they crested the top of a hill and started to descend the other side, Sansa gasped in wonderment at the stunning vista in front of her. Crystal clear blue waters, snow white sand dunes and stands of coconut palms, their verdant fronds waving gently in the breeze. As she scanned the scene she could detect no other beachgoers. They had rolled down the windows so she could feel a very light mist of saline in her face and smell the fresh brininess in the air. She turned to face Petyr, her face beaming. He laughed at her enthusiasm and squeezed her hand. 

 

“I knew you would love it. It is something we have in common. A love of the beach. As you know I grew up in The Fingers. It’s always so damned cold and wet and windy there. As a kid I used to dream about places like this.”  
“I just feel so free and as if anything is possible. I don’t know. It’s hard to explain,” she replied.  
“I know exactly what you mean. And it’s as though every dirty thing that clings to your soul gets washed away and you come away polished and shiny and new,” he added.  
“Yes, that’s it,” she smiled. “Thank you for bringing me here. It’s just exactly what I need.”  
“It is my absolute pleasure. Come on, let’s get out there,” he replied as he parked the car.

 

They grabbed their supplies from the car and made their way over the dunes and down to the wide expanse of pristine beach, choosing a spot near a small stand of palm trees which cast a little dappled shade and afforded them some protection from the strength of the sun’s rays. Spreading out the blanket they sat side by side taking in deep breaths of the fresh sea air and watching the waves break along the shoreline.   
“This is so beautiful,” Sansa sighed.  
Petyr did not reply but she noted out of her peripheral vision that he was staring fixedly at her. She turned her face towards him and he averted his gaze to the water once more.  
“Wow. It’s getting hotter now,” Sansa exclaimed after some time. “Are you coming in for a swim?”  
“In a little while. Why don’t you go ahead?”

 

Sansa smiled and unbuttoned and unzipped her shorts pulling them down and stepping free. She hesitated with the t-shirt for a brief moment but noticed that Petyr had removed his own t-shirt and his black chino shorts to reveal his swim briefs; he lay on his back with his hands behind his head and his eyes were closed so she took a deep breath and removed her own shirt. She felt instantly exposed so she turned from him swiftly and raced down to the water. She plunged in and swam some way out and then turned to look at the spot where Petyr lay. He hadn’t moved. She wondered if he had fallen asleep. 

 

She waded around in the water for a little while enjoying the swell and break of the waves until tiring, she made her way back on to the shore. Sure enough when she neared she could tell Petyr was asleep. A sudden mischievous impulse hit her. She stood over him and grabbed her hair in a rope and twisted it letting a splash of cold water hit his abdomen. He roared and scrambled to his feet scooping her up in his arms and running back towards the water. She squealed and laughed with him as he threw her in roughly. She held her breath as she submerged, her nose filling with salty water. She found her feet and stood, flipping back her hair from her eyes and laughing. 

 

Petyr stood transfixed, his breathing heavy, his pupils completely blown out. He walked slowly but steadily towards her. She froze. As he drew close a wave broke right at her back and pushed her forwards right against his chest. She could feel his taut muscles rub against her nipples, his hard member pressing right against the thin fabric of her bikini at her sex. This time he showed no restraint. His mouth hungrily claimed hers as his tongue battled with hers, tasting, probing. She felt herself melting into him as his hands roamed greedily over the exposed skin of her back. They found her arse cheeks, his fingers wriggling underneath the fabric of the bikini and massaging her flesh. He pulled her directly against his cock and ground against her. She moaned and grabbed at the hair of his temples bringing his mouth down to her neck where he kissed and sucked at her forcibly while still rubbing against her.   
“Petyr,” she gasped out.   
He stopped and stared at her, breathing rapidly. Her lips were parted as she panted with arousal. He placed his hands under her thighs and lifted her. She instinctively wrapped her legs around him as he walked back out of the water and towards the palm trees.

 

He deposited her gently on the blanket and lay down beside her, one leg draping over her hip, his hand stroking the side of her face. He leant in and kissed her gently while slowly trailing his hand down her neck, over her collarbone to brush lightly over the fabric of the bikini top at her hardened nipple. Sansa whimpered and arched her back as he tweaked the nipple through the fabric and commenced a trail of open mouthed kisses where his hand had passed. When he reached the fabric of the bikini he peeled it back and gently swirled his tongue over her flesh and around her nipple. She whined and writhed against him, pushing her thigh against the bulge in his swim trunks as he sucked and kissed at her breast.  
He stopped and looked directly into her eyes.   
“Will you let me pleasure you Sansa?”  
“Yes,” she said in a small voice.

 

“Oh my love. Let me show you how much I care for you,” he hushed as he captured her lips in a deep and passionate kiss. He reached for the ties of her bikini top and untied them pushing the garment away from her and exposing her breasts completely. She knew she should resist, that she should feel discomfited by the exposure, that she should not be allowing his caresses but she could not force herself to care. Not when his hands and his mouth roamed across her and set her body on fire. He lathed and sucked at her breasts in turn and kissed his way down to her navel. His fingers grasped the strings of her bikini at her hips and tugged them down revealing her sex to him.  
“So perfect,” he cooed to her as he parted her thighs gently with his hands and looked up at her. 

 

Suddenly Sansa was transported back to the small moonlit cove at King’s Landing, and the eyes that she saw staring back at her were not grey green. They were blue as the deepest ocean. Petyr’s touches no longer aroused her, they chilled her; she froze in fear and confusion.   
“No Petyr,” she whispered urgently as she brought her thighs together.  
“Sssh. Relax Sansa. I’m not going to hurt you,” he replied as he ran his hand slowly up one thigh.  
Sansa grabbed at his hand and glared at him.  
“I said no, Petyr,” she stated more firmly.

 

Petyr’s eyes darkened and the lines around his mouth deepened as he dropped his hand from her. Without a further word he stood and ran towards the water, diving in and swimming quickly from the shore. She could just make out his head bobbing on top of the water as he came to a stop. She re-dressed and then sat down anxiously waiting for him to return, having no idea what she would say to him when he did. He stayed out there for some time but eventually swam back to shore, his face completely inscrutable. He never met her eyes, instead leaning down to grab his beach towel and flinging it over his shoulder.  
“I’ll be in the car. Take your time. I’ll wait until you’re ready to go.”  
“Petyr, I -”   
“You don’t need to say anything Sansa,” he said stiffly. “This has all been a huge mistake; I see that now.”  
He headed off to the car leaving Sansa to stare after him in fear and apprehension. His tone had been so cold and with an edge of anger. He had never spoken to her like that before. She had lost him. She turned to face the crashing waves and began to weep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up, the Dream Team: Stannis, Davos and Oberyn hit Dorne.


	35. Chapter 35

Stannis and Davos wheeled their travel cases out of the Dorne International Airport terminal and headed towards a silver Audi parked in the short term carpark. Beside it stood a very contrite looking Oberyn Martell. As they approached he stretched out his hand to Stannis and bowed his head down slightly in deference.  
“I feel that I must apologise for my crass behaviour towards you Stannis, my friend. I hope that you know that I would never have cast aspersions upon Miss Stone, umm, Miss Stark I should say, had I known what the truth really was.”  
“I appreciate that,” Stannis replied. “You were not to know. We’ve been closer to her than you have and we had no idea. How could you be expected to?”  
In their phone conversation with Oberyn, Stannis and Davos had not revealed all of the gory details of Sansa’s past, just sufficient information to leave the man with no doubt as to the seriousness of the matter and the danger that Baelish posed to Sansa.

 

Suddenly Oberyn’s face contorted into a snarl and he flashed his pearly white canines. Stannis flinched back a little, not ever having seen such an aggressive display from the man before.  
“That fucking bastard Littlefinger. He must pay. I want to snap his neck like a twig,” he hissed angrily.  
“You would have to take a number and stand in line,” Davos asserted.  
Oberyn’s face relaxed somewhat as he unlocked the boot of the car and placed the travel cases inside.  
“Come, my friends. I will drive you to my estate in Sunspear and we will discuss strategy.”  
“You make it sound like a military operation,” Stannis said.  
“If we are to extract Sansa from this situation, then that is exactly the way we have to approach it Stannis. Don’t forget who we’re dealing with.” Davos commented.

 

They drove through the stunning Dorne countryside until they reached the sprawling estate of the Martell family. A huge stately mansion stood proudly amongst extensive stands of mature date palms. Behind the home grew a large olive tree plantation.  
“Be it ever so humble,” remarked Oberyn with a smirk as he parked the car in front of the entrance to the building.  
Being accustomed to impressive homes Stannis was not overly affected but his more humble friend stared wide-eyed at the splendour that assailed them when Oberyn opened the front door. A huge marble staircase swirling up from a floor that was geometrically patterned with thousands of small hand painted tiles. Palm trees in huge earthenware pots. Intricate tapestries adorning every wall. Imposing marble statues of Dornish deities in each corner of the huge space.  
“Come through to the sitting room. We have the place to ourselves. My sister Elia and my brother Doran are both away on business currently so there will be no interruptions. I have had rooms prepared for you. But first, may I offer you refreshments?” Oberyn asked, gesturing to a large modular lounge.  
Stannis and Davos took their places both politely declining his offer. Oberyn settled into a leather armchair facing them. 

 

“So, what can you tell us so far, Oberyn? Stannis enquired a little impatiently.  
“One thing that you will learn about Dorne is that things move very slowly. No one is in a particular hurry here, except of course, for us.”  
Stannis grimaced and ran his hands through his hair in frustration.  
“We don’t have time to waste. Anything could have happened by now,” he muttered.  
“Here is what I can tell you,” Oberyn continued. “Through contacts at the airport I was able to access the passenger manifest for the flight we were on. Of those in first class only six passengers were travelling as couples. We can eliminate two of those couples as one was Dothraki, the other consisted of two men. That leaves us with a Stephen and Rebecca Symons.”  
“Okay. That’s a good start,” Davos commented.  
“I have had my people check the hotels and inns in Water Gardens and around the general vicinity but we have not found any reservations under those names as yet.”  
“Could they have used different aliases as a further cover?” Stannis asked.  
“It is of course possible.”  
Stannis rubbed at his eyes.  
“Where does this leave us? Do we have any leads at all?”

 

“I have arranged for the security footage from the airport to be checked so we can ascertain their movements after they disembarked from the flight. But it will take time. I expect to hear something later today or tomorrow morning.”  
Davos glanced at Stannis with concern.   
“I know you’re worried Stannis but she is a strong woman. Just try and remember that.”  
“I’m trying. But this is just so fucking frustrating,” he grunted as he jumped from the lounge and started to pace fitfully.  
“I feel like I need to do something. Not sit here in the lap of luxury while…” Stannis couldn’t finish the thought.  
“Come on, Stannis my friend. Let me show you both to your rooms and then I will take you out on the town; show you the delights of Water Gardens. It may help to take your mind off things.”  
“That I very much doubt Oberyn, but anything is better than just sitting around,” he replied.  
Davos nodded in agreement.  
“I have a date with a very large stein of lager that has my name written all over it,” he smirked.  
Stannis rolled his eyeballs thinking it was going to be a very long night.

 

Later that night as Davos was polishing off his fourth stein of beer, Stannis gazed absently around at the other patrons of Oberyn’s favourite club. He always felt like a duck out of water in these sorts of places and the relentless boom booming of the music was giving him a slight headache. Their host had moved off to chat up a very attractive blonde woman who sat alone at the end of the bar. Oberyn must have had the charm offensive dialled up to 11 because the woman was giggling coquettishly, playing with her hair within minutes and finding excuses to constantly touch him on the arm. Stannis heaved a huge sigh and returned his attention to Davos. Oberyn had left them to their own devices sitting alone at a table in a darkened corner of the room.   
“Come here often?” Davos purred at him, fluttering his eyelashes.  
“Shut up Seaworth,” he growled in reply.   
Despite his cheekiness Davos was completely stone cold sober. Stannis was drinking only water and marvelled constantly at how a man of Davos’s modest stature could consume so much alcohol and not betray a hint of inebriation. 

 

“So Stannis, I have to ask. Have you thought about what you are going to do if Sansa doesn’t want to leave him? There is a possibility that could happen. We can’t force her to come with us.”  
“I have to believe that she just doesn’t know what he’s done to her. We have to make her see what he is.”  
Davos sighed.  
“These things can be very complicated. We don’t know what sort of snow job he’s done on her over the years. It might not be that easy.”  
Davos paused before continuing.  
“She may have convinced herself that she has real feelings for him.”  
Stannis scowled heavily.

 

“I can’t let myself think that, Davos. And the way she was with me the night before she left makes it very difficult for me to believe. But when it comes down to it, I don’t care if there is a chance that she will refuse to come with us. Of course, it will be hard but I have to make sure he isn’t hurting her and that she has every opportunity to leave him if she wants to. That is the only thing that matters to me right now.”  
“You’re right. But promise me something.”  
“What?”  
“Don’t go after Baelish.”  
Stannis clenched his teeth.  
“I can’t promise you that.”  
“Look, we all want to see him pay for what he’s done but what good will it do if you’re rotting in a Dornish jail. There has to be some other way to bring him down. We’ll find it, I promise you.”  
Stannis grunted but did not reply.

 

Suddenly Davos’s phone began to ring. He pulled it from his jacket pocket and studied the incoming call number.  
“It’s Pearce, one of my team. I need to take this,” he explained before walking towards the club exit and away from the noisy interior of the club.  
After some minutes he returned, his expression solemn.  
“What? What’s happened,” Stannis asked worriedly.  
“It’s Bolton.”  
“What about him?” Stannis asked in trepidation.  
“We know where he is now Stannis.”  
“Where?”  
“At the bottom of a ravine thirty miles west of Winterfell. Ramsay Bolton is dead.”


	36. Chapter 36

Sansa sat on the bed in the master bedroom chewing distractedly on a fingernail. The drive back from the beach had been incredibly tense and awkward. Petyr had not spoken a word to her and had not looked at her once. His eyes had been trained squarely on the road in front of him, his hands clenched tightly around the steering wheel. At one point the unrelenting tension had overwhelmed her and tears had started to trail down her face. She had sniffled and wiped at her cheeks and she thought she had detected a slight softening in his eyes but all trace of emotion was quickly erased and the steely coldness had returned. She sat then in misery until they arrived back at the villa. Petyr had stormed from the car and locked himself in one of the guest bedrooms leaving her to her own devices.

 

Hours had passed and it was early evening when she heard a knock on the door.  
“Sansa, can I come in? I need to discuss something with you.”  
Sansa had been sorely tempted to run to the door and fling it open, hug him tight and beg him to forgive her but she could tell by the flinty tone of his voice that he would be entirely unreceptive to her.   
“Yes, come in,” she replied instead.  
She bit at her bottom lip as the door opened and Petyr stepped inside the room. He sat beside her on the edge of the bed staring at her with an unreadable expression before speaking.   
“I’ve made a decision,” he announced coldly.  
“Oh,” she replied in a small voice. “A decision about what?” she asked tremulously.

 

“About us. I was very wrong to bring you here. My role in your life is to protect you; that is all it should ever have been. To that end we will be leaving this place the day after tomorrow and I will be taking you to the place that I should have taken you in the first instance. We will be making the journey by sea this time.”  
“Where to?” she asked with a sinking feeling in her guts.  
“My ancestral home at Coldwater in The Fingers.”  
“But you always hated it there. Why do you want to go back there now?”  
“It is heavily secured and the safest place I know of. I had wished to make your time away from King’s Landing pleasant for you but I fear that coming here was extremely ill-judged. You have made it abundantly clear that you do not care for my company. You can have a whole wing to yourself at Coldwater and you do not need to see me unless you wish to. Unless you ask for me, I will stay away from you unless I have a particular need to see you.”

 

Sansa felt tears threatening.  
“But it’s not true that I don’t care for your company. I still need you as a friend,” she mumbled as she reached out her hand to grab his. He looked at it disinterestedly and then removed his hand from her grasp.  
“It is not possible for me to be your friend. Surely you know that by now. I am however your protector and I will see you through this threat from Ramsay but then my obligation will be discharged and we must part ways.”  
“But you said you would never leave me alone,” she sobbed as she began to lose her composure. “I don’t have anyone else. Please Petyr.”

 

A brief look of pain traversed his face but it was so quick that had she blinked she would have missed it. His voice when he spoke was frosty.  
“You can only push me away so many times Sansa. You have your breaking point and I have mine. I will stay in the guest bedroom; you stay here. I will be leaving early in the morning for Water Gardens and then to the port in Planky Town to make the necessary arrangements for our travel and to make sure Coldwater is properly prepared for our arrival. I expect I will be gone most of the day. I have dismissed Colin and Shirley but Bronn will be here so you will be completely safe.”

 

Sansa chewed on her lip in anxiety. She had only glimpsed Bronn on rare occasions but every single time he had glared sneeringly at her or had ignored her presence completely.  
“You’re leaving me alone with him?”  
“Yes, what of it?” he asked in a slightly irritated tone.  
“I don’t think he likes me.”  
“He is not required to like you Sansa. He is required to protect you, as am I,” Petyr replied.  
“Are you saying you don’t like me?” she asked in a small voice.  
Petyr stared at her and his breathing hitched. He stood abruptly and walked away from her.   
“There is plenty of food in the kitchen that Shirley prepared before she left. Help yourself,” he snapped back at her as he closed the door behind him.

 

Sansa sat for some time on the bed before walking over to the curtains and drawing them back. Petyr was sitting with his back turned to her in the spa, a full glass of wine sitting on the decking beside him. His shoulders were slumped, his head slightly bowed. Part of her desperately wanted to join him but she could not compel herself to move. If he rejected her again, and she felt sure he would, the reality of her complete isolation and loneliness would be too difficult to bear. She decided that she could not be near him again so she closed the curtains and made her way out to the rear of the property to stretch her legs and take in some fresh evening air. 

 

As she strolled the perimeter of the electric fence on the other side of the tennis court she passed a gate similar to the one at the front of the property. She stopped and peered through at the forest beyond and startled as she glimpsed a shadowy figure flit through the vegetation. She backed away in terror and turned to run only to collide with a shriek straight into the chest of a very solid and unyielding Bronn. He grabbed her arms roughly and frowned down at her.  
“What is it, girl?” he boomed angrily. As he spoke she could smell alcohol on his breath and he appeared somewhat unsteady on his feet.  
“I saw someone out there,” she replied tremulously as she pointed at the spot where the figure had moved.  
“Hmmph,” he grunted somewhat sceptically as he dropped his hands from her and stared out at the forest. “I don’t see anything there now.”  
“I’m not making it up,” she replied sternly.   
“Just your overactive imagination, girly. Seems like all this upset with Littlefinger has made you a little unbalanced and you’re jumping at shadows. Either that or it was someone from a neighbouring property. Nothing to worry that pretty little head of yours about,” he rumbled.

 

“But what if it’s Ramsay?” Sansa persisted although now she was starting to convince herself that perhaps she had just imagined the figure. She was tired and overemotional after all.  
“There are other things you should be more scared of than Ramsay,” he replied.   
His words could have been taken as a well meant warning but the tone had been unkind.  
“What do you mean,” Sansa asked perplexedly.  
“What do you think is going to happen once Baelish gets you to Coldwater?”  
“He’s taking me there to protect me until he sorts out Ramsay,” she answered firmly.  
“Is that what you think?” he asked with a smirk. “You are a naïve little fool. You really haven’t learnt much over the years, have you? Ah, well. You will find out for yourself soon enough.”  
A cold streak of fear swept through Sansa’s body.   
“What do you think he would do if he could hear the way you’re speaking about him now?” she asked, her voice trembling.  
Bronn snorted with derision.  
“You think that fucked up little pervert scares me. He might scare little girls but he’s too much of a coward to take on a man,” he sneered.

 

Sansa backed away from him slowly and ran back towards the back door of the villa. Just before the door closed behind her she heard Bronn call out.  
“One of these days you’re going to have to stop running.”  
She leant against the other side of the door, her chest heaving as she struggled to control her breathing. What on earth was Bronn saying? Why would he refer to Petyr as a pervert who scared little girls? What could he possibly think that Petyr would do to her at Coldwater? Perhaps he had just been trying to scare her. He had seemed determined to do so since the first time they had met and she had no doubt that his nature was sadistic and cruel. 

She walked on trembling legs back to the bedroom locked the door after her and reached into the bottom of one of her travel cases, her hand clutching around the fur of the baby wolf. She flung herself into bed and held it against her cheek, her tears wetting the bedraggled fur as they had done so many times over the years.


	37. Chapter 37

As they relaxed in the sitting room back at the Martell’s mansion after leaving the club, Davos shared all of the information that his informant had given him about the death of Ramsay.  
“His body was found at the bottom of the ravine next to the remains of a burnt out car. It appears he was not wearing a seatbelt and that he was flung out of the car upon impact.”  
“When did they find him?” Oberyn asked.  
“Yesterday. It is starting to find its way into the media now. But he didn’t die yesterday. According to initial reports the state of the body indicates that he had been there for some time, perhaps weeks. It is difficult to determine because his body had been predated upon by wild dogs. It will take an autopsy and probably forensic entomology to be certain.”  
“Why did it take so long for him to be found?” Stannis enquired.  
“The car and the corpse were not visible from the road. They were found by a group who were out hunting and camping in the vicinity.”

 

“I don’t believe in coincidences. This was no accident. It was him. It was Baelish. He killed Bolton,” Stannis grated.  
“I don’t buy the whole accident scenario either. If Ramsay was anything like his father and there is every indication that in fact he was worse, then he would have had a lot of enemies but, yes, I think there is a very strong case to argue that Baelish was responsible for this. The timing is just right. It would have been around the time that Sansa moved from Maidenpool to King’s Landing.”  
“He played her. She was never in any danger from him.”  
“Perhaps she was in the beginning but it appears that Baelish has made maximum mileage out of it. What better way of making her completely dependent on him and grateful to him than posing as her saviour from a psychopathic ex. It’s perfect.”

 

“Oh My God,” Stannis groaned.  
“What is it my friend?” Oberyn asked in concern.  
“Do you think…? If he did this.... Did that prick kill Sansa’s family?”  
Davos scratched his beard and exhaled noisily.  
“Well, we can’t know that for sure but it’s consistent with his other ploys of isolating her and fostering dependency. He evidently believed he would win custody of Sansa once her family were disposed of. A gross miscalculation and quite delusional to think that the state would agree to it given the past accusations against him. Still he’d gotten away with so much up until that point. Perhaps it was just a case of over-confidence. We do have to remember though that Sandor Clegane is still considered the most likely suspect in their murders. We can’t rule him out.”

 

“There’s something I still don’t understand,” he added. “Why would Baelish ship Sansa off to Gulltown and then Maidenpool in the first place if he wanted more sway over her?”  
“To compound her isolation, keep her off-balance, feed her fear. That way she’s that much more compliant when he eventually gets hold of her. He’s playing the long term game.”  
“But why bring her to Dorne? Why not just keep up the pretence in King’s Landing?”  
“He wants her alone, without support. He would be more than aware that he was losing control of her when she started to make friends and connections and that worming his way into her life would become more complicated. Think about it. He must have known that she was getting involved with you and you were a threat to his whole plan. He needed to tear the two of you apart, convince her that she’s lost you and get closer to her. What better place to woo her than an idyllic paradise like Dorne where she is completely removed from reality.”  
“That sick fucking bastard,” Stannis fumed.  
Oberyn had remained silent but the fury in his expression was palpable.

 

“I just had a thought,” Oberyn offered as he scratched his chin in concentration.  
“What is that,” Davos queried.  
“If what you say is true then can we assume that this trip to Dorne was a very spur of the moment decision in terms of the timing of it?”  
Stannis considered for a moment.  
“Yes, I think that’s very likely. Things happened very quickly between Sansa and I. There would not have been much time to plan.”  
“My point exactly, my friend. It is peak holiday season here in Dorne. Accommodations are very hard to find at short notice.”  
“I think I know where you are going with this,” Davos commented. “It is possible that they are staying at a property owned by Baelish rather than at a hotel or a rental property. And, if he is planning on an extended stay that would of course be the more practical option.”

 

“How exactly does that help us,” queried Stannis. “We can hardly visit every domicile in Dorne.”  
“Ahh. No need my friend. I have a connection at the Lands Office. We can check the owner information on the property titles. I will have electronic files sent over but it will not be until tomorrow morning. It will take us some considerable time to filter through them all.”  
“There’s no guarantee that we will be able to ascertain which property belongs to him and we might be barking up the wrong tree completely but at least it’s a start,” Davos concluded.  
“I think we should focus on slightly more out of the way locations rather than inner city areas to start. It is clear that Baelish wants to lay low and to isolate Sansa as much as possible,” Stannis reasoned.  
“That sounds logical,” Oberyn replied. “Let us sleep now my friends. We have a lot of work ahead of us tomorrow.”


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TRIGGER WARNING**  
> There are references to sexual assault of a minor in this chapter. Not an easy read. Please keep in mind before reading.

“Sit still girl or I’m going to have to shove you onto my cock and keep you still that way,” the man sneered as he held on tightly to her arms and leered at her lasciviously. Sansa whined and squirmed in discomfort and fear. The man’s hard member was pushing up at the fabric of her shorts right between her legs. His dirty calloused fingers grabbed at her breasts and massaged them roughly through the material of her halter top before slipping in underneath to tweak at her nipples directly.  
“No!” she screamed out as she made a desperate lunge for the door of the van. The man grabbed her and forced her to straddle him. He encircled her with one arm while he pulled at the zip of his pants with his free hand.  
“I fucking warned you, you stupid little cunt. So what happens now is your own fault.”

 

Suddenly the door of the van flew open. Her attacker dropped her to the floor of the van in shock as he sprang to his feet and turned to regard the interloper whose ravaged face was contorted in fury.  
“Get out now Sansa. Run home. Go.”  
“Sandor!”  
“I SAID RUN!” the man roared. “NOW!”

 

Sansa crawled quickly across the floor of the van on her hands and knees and jumped down to the ground. As soon as she landed the van door slammed shut. As her head whipped around in fright she gasped as she spotted the two other men who had abducted her lying bloodied and broken on the ground. Neither moved a muscle. Suddenly a loud piercing scream filled the air followed by a sickening crunch. Sansa froze when the door of the van opened. She breathed a sigh of relief and stared at Sandor who glared at her angrily and quickly shut the door behind him. 

 

“Why are you still here?” he rasped.  
Sansa’s bottom lip started to tremble and tears brimmed in her eyes.  
“Oh shit,” Sandor mumbled as he shifted from foot to foot, evidently deciding whether to approach her or run very fast in the opposite direction. His need to comfort her won out as he closed the distance between them and embraced her tentatively. She flung her arms around him and started to sob convulsively.  
“It’s alright now. Come on little bird,” he soothed as he stroked his fingers through her hair.  
“Did any of them hurt you?”  
“No,” she sniffled through her tears. “That man in the van, he touched me and he would have….”   
She broke down again at the thought of what had very nearly transpired. Finally she composed herself enough to draw away from him and look him in the eye.   
“Thank you. Thank you Sandor. I’ve missed you so much.”  
She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him on the ruined side of his face.   
“I’ve missed you too little bird,” he replied, his eyes glistening.

 

Suddenly the distant wail of sirens sounded. Sandor’s head snapped up, his eyes full of fear.  
“Shit. Someone’s called the cops. I have to go. Stay here until they come but if either of these cunts moves before they get here, run,” he rasped urgently.  
“Why are you running Sandor? You saved me. You haven’t done anything wrong.”  
“The law won’t see it that way, Sansa. I’ve killed a man and seriously buggered up two more. They fucking well deserved it but I’ll still go to jail for a long time.”  
“But I’ll tell them that you saved me…Surely….”  
“I’m a bad man with a rap sheet as long as your arm. They’re not going to cut me any slack. I have to go.”  
“Please don’t go Sandor,” she pleaded. “You’re my friend. I need you.”  
Sandor took her face in his hands and planted a chaste kiss on her forehead.  
“Goodbye little bird. I’ll always be your friend. Remember that.”  
“No, don’t leave me,” she sobbed but he pulled away from her grasping hands and ran down the street disappearing around a bend.

 

She wiped at the tears on her face as she heard the sirens getting closer. At that moment one of her kidnappers stirred and groaned loudly. She squealed and began to run in the opposite direction to Sandor and towards her home. She turned her head to check that she wasn’t being pursued and ran straight into a pair of strong arms.

 

“Gotcha,” the man cried.  
Sansa squealed and giggled as he tickled her ribs.  
He pulled her out from the darkened wardrobe of her parent’s bedroom and scooped her up bridal style and sat with her on the edge of the bed, placing her sideways across his knees.   
“That was fun Uncle Petyr,” she grinned.   
“Yes it was sweetie. But you know there is no use in running from me. I’m always going to find you,” he replied as he tickled her tummy.   
“When are Mommy and Daddy getting back?”  
“Not long now honey.”  
His hand rubbed up and down the skin of her inner thigh, his fingers getting closer and closer to that place between her legs he liked to tickle. 

 

“That feels funny Uncle Petyr,” she said squirming uncomfortably as the tips of his fingers made contact.   
He placed the long fingers of his other hand under her chin, tilted her head up and stared deeply into her eyes. Slowly his lips lowered to hers and pressed softly against them. His hand moved from her upper thigh and grabbed her hand. He placed it between his legs. She felt how long and hard he was there underneath his trousers. His hand squeezed hers and her fingers wrapped around the hardness. He groaned and clenched his hand around hers even harder.  
“Such a beautiful, beautiful girl,” he rasped in her ear.

 

Sansa sat bolt upright in the bed and shrieked loudly. She was covered in sweat, wet strands of her hair were plastered to her face. She gulped in huge lungfuls of air, her heart beating furiously in her chest.  
The door knob rattled and then a loud knocking sounded at the door.  
“Sansa! What’s wrong? Let me in.”  
Sansa whimpered and rubbed tears from her face as she tried to catch her breath.  
“Sansa! Answer me!”  
She replied as sternly and firmly as she could manage but she could still hear a distinct tremor in her voice.  
“I’m fine Petyr. It was just a dream.”  
“Come on Sansa. Let me in. I know things have been tense between us but I don’t like to hear you suffer like this.”  
“I don’t need you Petyr,” she grated out. “Please leave me alone.”  
There was complete silence from the other side of the door and then a very slight sound of movement as Petyr retreated from the door.  
She sat staring at the door for some moments until suddenly nauseated she leapt from the bed, raced to the ensuite and vomited violently into the toilet bowl.


	39. Chapter 39

After a rushed and tense breakfast, Oberyn sent copies of the land titles files he received from his contacts to Stannis and Davos on their laptops.  
“We will all take a different geographical area and concentrate on those that lie on the fringes of the city and move outwards. I have a map which I have divided up into sections so that you have available the outer suburb and town names.”  
Oberyn laid out the map on the table while Stannis and Davos opened up the files on their computers. Stannis heaved a huge sigh when he saw the sizes of the files.  
“Shit, this is going to take forever,” Davos commented rather unnecessarily.  
“Cheers Captain Obvious,” Stannis sneered. “We don’t have forever. There has to be an easier and quicker way.”  
“I am open to suggestions,” Oberyn remarked wryly.

 

Later that morning after much tedious and unsuccessful studying of the titles files, Oberyn’s phone rang.  
“It is my contact at the airport. Excuse me one moment.”  
Both Stannis’s and Davos’s eyes had snapped up as they held their breath and prayed for more information about Baelish’s and Sansa’s movements at the airport. Oberyn had moved away from them and was speaking animatedly into the phone. After a couple of minutes he terminated the call and resumed his seat in front of them.

 

“Anything?” Stannis enquired anxiously.  
“After retrieving their baggage they were observed in a couple of locations. They visited a restaurant for a meal. I am very surprised that they chose ‘Milandro’s’. Abominable place. I would rather eat a sand steed than contend with what laughingly passes as premium steak in that place. Forgive me, I digress,” Oberyn mumbled quickly with a grimace when he noticed a deepening scowl of irritation and impatience on Stannis’s face.  
“Afterwards they approached the service counter of a car rental company and then departed the terminal.”  
Davos scratched his chin.  
“Which car rental company?” Stannis enquired.  
“Prestige 1.”  
“Of course, why would I even ask? As if Baelish would ever slum it with an economy vehicle,” he replied sarcastically. 

 

“This is excellent news,” Davos remarked.  
“How so, my friend?” Oberyn enquired.  
“GPS trackers. All of the major car rental companies have GPS trackers installed so that they can monitor car movements. You can bet Littlefinger’s bottom dollar that Prestige 1’s luxury vehicles have them.”  
“Okay,” Stannis remarked dubiously, “But how will we get hold of that information? They’re not just going to hand that information over to us.”

 

Oberyn chuckled dryly. Stannis and Davos shot him a curious look.  
“That is another thing that you will learn about Dorne, gentlemen. Everybody has their price,” he said with a knowing wink.  
“Anything,” Stannis stated firmly. “I don’t care how much money it takes, get that information.”  
“Your wish is my command,” Oberyn replied with a flourish. “I suggest that you carve up my section of the map and continue with your search. I do not anticipate difficulties but it does not pay to put all of one’s eggs in one basket,” he suggested before striding purposefully from the room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a super short chapter. So guess what? You get two today! Next one will be up v soon. Just because I love you guys <3 Next chapter contains a very important development.


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually posted two chapters today. So if you have gone straight to this one you might want to head back to chapter 39. Hope you enjoy.

Sansa had been assailed by a volley of disturbing and violent dreams for the entirety of the night. That combined with her nausea had left her feeling extremely drained and unwell. She had made several attempts to lift herself from the bed throughout the morning but her limbs felt heavy and uncooperative. Her mind was awash with so many dark and sinister images that she no longer knew which ones were dreams and which were memories.

 

As she lay in the bed staring up at the ceiling she realised for the first time that she was afraid of Petyr. Very afraid. Several dreams that she had experienced of herself on his lap and him lying in bed with her as a small child, his hands roaming all over her as he sang her to sleep, had a distinctly different quality to them. They were much more vivid and she could remember smells and sounds and touches much more clearly, as if she was actually present in the moment. 

 

Was it possible that Sandor and her father had been right about him? Even his own man Bronn had called him a pervert. She found it incredibly difficult to believe. She didn’t want to believe it. He wouldn’t hurt her that way. He just wouldn’t. Would he? He’d never forced himself on her. He had always controlled himself when she had shown that she did not wish to escalate their contact. How could the man who had been her friend all of her life do something so vile and despicable to her as an innocent and vulnerable child, the one he professed to love? No it had to be some sort of mistake. She was merely confused. That was all.

 

And yet she doubted. And if she doubted she could not just follow him blindly to Coldwater. If her suspicions were true, and if Bronn was right, once there he would trap her like a bird in a cage and there would be no hope for her. But she could not escape this place. There was the electric fence and Bronn to contend with. She knew that while Bronn was disrespectful to Petyr he was still in his pocket and entirely unsympathetic to her plight so there was no way to convince the man to help her. She would have to pretend that nothing was amiss and pray that when they arrived at the port in Planky Town she could create an opportunity to make good her escape. 

 

She finally managed to haul herself from the bed and trudge tiredly into the ensuite for a quick shower. She dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, brushed her hair and cleaned her teeth before returning to the bed. Next to her pillow lay Lady. She picked the toy up and stroked her fingers through the matted fur then untied the pink ribbon and stuffed it into the pocket of her jeans to keep it close. 

 

She moved to the curtains and opened them. The pool and spa area was deserted. She had not heard a sound from inside the villa so she assumed that Petyr was still out on his errands. She steeled herself and opened the bedroom door. She walked through the building checking all the rooms but she was quite alone. As she made her way back into the outdoor lounge she cringed as she spied Bronn’s massive form appearing from the side of the property. He removed his outer clothing and lowered himself into the pool and caught her eye with a sneer.  
“Fancy a swim darling?” he yelled out with a booming and derisory laugh.  
Sansa turned her back on him and made her way out to the back of the property. She knew that the wisest course of action would have been to lock herself in the bedroom but she couldn’t face the prospect of spending the whole day trapped in a hot stuffy room. Up until now Bronn hadn’t actively sought her out; in fact he had appeared to avoid her if anything. Besides it was highly likely that the man had access to a key to the bedroom door locks anyway, if he were that way inclined.

 

She made her way down the narrow walkway between the tennis court and the caretaker lodgings seeking to put as much distance between herself and Bronn as possible. As she neared the perimeter fence she spotted a shaded area underneath a large oak tree just off to the side of the gate. She walked towards it and lowered herself to sit on a soft patch of bright green grass underneath. She leaned back against the trunk of the tree closing her eyes.

“Hello little bird.”


	41. Chapter 41

Stannis paced fitfully up and down the length of Oberyn’s sitting room, clenching and unclenching his fists.  
“What the fuck is taking so long? He should have been back hours ago,” he fumed as he scowled deeply at Davos.  
“Steady on sweet chops,” Davos responded as he sipped calmly at a cold beer he had managed to find in the fridge.   
“Giving us the information we are asking for would constitute a huge breach in company policy. Fuck that, it’s highly illegal. Oberyn has to handle it delicately or they’ll clam up and we’ll be back to square one. Just remember we’ve spent hours on those bleeding title files and we’ve had absolutely no luck so far.”  
Stannis exhaled loudly and plopped on to the couch dragging his fingers roughly through his hair.  
“There’s a thing called a phone though,” Stannis snapped back petulantly. “Couldn’t he just pick it up and keep us apprised.”  
“I know it’s killing you but we’re just going to have to wait and trust that Oberyn knows what he’s doing and brings home the bacon.”  
“He bloody well better,” Stannis grated. 

 

Stannis was about to resume work on the files when the front door burst open and Oberyn strode swiftly into the room.  
“Where the fuck have you been? It’s almost 3.30pm,” Stannis growled.  
Oberyn blinked rapidly before replying.  
“Dorne was not built in one day. The avarice of those thieving dogs knew no bounds. I thought I would have to give them my first-born, if I actually had a first-born, that is to say.”  
“You know I’ll pay you back every penny,” Stannis snapped.  
“That will not be necessary my friend. Consider it my gift to you,” Oberyn sniffed with a note of hurt in his voice.  
Stannis immediately regretted his boorish behaviour and sighed loudly grasping the man by the shoulder.  
“I apologise. I am more grateful to you than you know. And I can’t let you carry the cost.”  
“I accept your apology because I know how worried you are. And I insist. Now, please let us sit. I have news.”

 

“I have been able to narrow down the location of the rental car,” Oberyn announced.  
“What do you mean narrow down?” Davos asked with a frown.  
“The area Miss Stark and Littlefinger have driven to is in a satellite blackspot.”  
“Shit,” Stannis cursed. “Why can’t we ever just catch a break?”  
“It is not as bad as it sounds. The area we are speaking of is in the vicinity of Ghost Hill. It is a sparsely populated area mainly comprising of private holiday homes and villas. Perhaps a couple of hundred properties in total,” Oberyn explained.  
“It will take too long to check them all,” Stannis sighed loudly.  
“With any luck we may not have to,” replied Davos. “We have a much more defined area to work with now. We can go back to the land titles and check the details of the properties that fall inside the area.”

 

Stannis had the region in question contained amongst his files. The three men huddled around the laptop as Stannis proceeded to work systematically through the information. After some time Davos’s eyes lit up and he prodded the screen excitedly. Usually Stannis would have slapped his friend’s hand away and given him a sharp clip on the ear for leaving fingerprints on his screen but he was too distracted.  
“That’s it. It has to be. It can’t be a coincidence,” Davos cried out.  
The property in question, a villa, was registered under a company name: Mockingbird Enterprises.  
“No fucking way,” Stannis breathed. 

 

Oberyn looked at both men in confusion. Stannis caught the man’s eye.  
“The Mockingbird is the name of Baelish’s club in the High Street.”  
Oberyn’s eyes widened in comprehension.   
“Ah, yes. I had forgotten. Of course. Then that must be it.”  
“I’m not taking any chances,” Stannis replied as he pulled up an internet browser.   
He typed in Mockingbird Enterprises and brought up the company’s profile. Stannis nodded. “Bingo. Director, Petyr Baelish,” he confirmed.  
“Halle-fuckin-lujah!” Davos yelled out. 

 

“Right, let’s get the hell out of here,” Stannis said as he snapped the laptop shut and sprang to his feet.  
“Not so fast. We can’t just go storming over there unprepared. While I’m sure Baelish thinks he’s covered his tracks he is sure to have made contingency plans just in case,” Davos reasoned.  
“Well, we can’t exactly dress up as girl scouts and pretend to be selling cookies,” Stannis sneered sarcastically as he resumed his seat.  
Davos gave him a look that basically told him to bugger off.  
“In that case, I believe we may be needing these. Not as eloquent and as gratifying as a Dornish spear, but effective nonetheless,” Oberyn commented as he reached over to open a wooden box on the adjacent coffee table.   
He reached inside and pulled out two luger pistols, placing them on the table in front of them.

 

Davos regarded them with wide eyes while Stannis immediately reached out to grab one of the weapons. Davos stopped his hand before he could make contact with it. Stannis glared at him.  
“Not you. I know what you might be tempted to do with that gun, Stannis. I can’t let you do it. Besides, have you ever even held a gun in your life before?”  
“No,” Stannis admitted with an annoyed grunt.  
“Right, that’s settled then. We don’t need any friendly fire or you shooting your own balls off. Just stick close and don’t run off trying to be a hero. Promise me,” Davos said firmly.  
“Alright, alright,” he replied in frustration. “Let’s just get the hell out of here and get this thing done.”


	42. Chapter 42

Sansa’s eyes snapped open and her head whipped around to scan the forest in the direction from which the gruff voice had emanated. There on the other side of the fence leaning against a tree he stood, the scarred side of his face partially obscured by a stringy curtain of lank hair. He looked considerably older and careworn with deeper lines around the eyes and mouth; there were sprinklings of grey among the blacks of his hair that had thinned with the passing of the years. He was also much leaner than she remembered. For a man who was only in his early forties, the years had most certainly not been kind. She felt the blood drain from her face.  
“Sandor?” she whispered hoarsely as she stood and approached him on quaking legs.  
“In the flesh.”  
“How? How did you find me?”  
“I’ve followed you all the way from King’s Landing. I was on the same plane but in economy and I tailed you here in a cab from the airport. I came back here yesterday but I couldn’t approach you because you were not alone.” 

 

“But how did you know we were even leaving King’s Landing?”  
“I’ve tried to watch over you. I lost track of you when you were taken by Ramsay and when Baelish moved you from the Vale. I kept watching him and followed him to King’s Landing; that’s when I eventually saw you again recently. I haven’t always been there to help you when you’ve needed me and you don’t know how sorry I am for that. But that fucking prick hasn’t always made it easy.”  
“Who Sandor?”  
“You know, little bird.”  
“Petyr?” she asked in a trembling voice.  
Sandor grunted in disgusted confirmation.

 

“Do you remember the time I was locked up in prison?”  
Sansa nodded slowly in affirmation.  
“Before that you came to me on your Eighth Name Day and you told me that cunt had been kissing you on the mouth,” he grated out. “Do you remember?”  
Sansa gasped and fought a wave of nausea. She remembered that was when Sandor had given her Lady and she had wanted to give him a kiss in return. She nodded in reply. Sandor continued.  
“He was furious that I told your parents about what he had been doing to you and desperate to get me out of the picture. I was ambushed by two of his men but I managed to beat them up pretty badly. One of them ended up a vegetable. Unfortunately there were witnesses and I went down for using excessive force even though it was considered self-defence. Through the years he has attempted to bring me down numerous times. So many times I wanted to help you but somehow he always prevented me. Coincidentally the police would always find out where I was and I would be forced to run or he would send his goons after me. And back then I wasn’t even sure that if I approached you, you would even believe or trust in me. Not after all the allegations that were made against me.”   
“Then it’s true. The dreams I’ve been having aren’t just dreams. They’re memories. He did those awful things to me when I was just a child,” she sobbed.

 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t prevent it,” he replied sadly. “And I am sorry for what you went through that day in the van. I was working in my garage and I saw Trant approaching you in the front yard but I didn’t react quickly enough.”  
Sansa rubbed at her eyes and spoke shakily through her tears.  
“You saved me from them. I can never repay you for what you did. Who knows what would have happened to me if those men hadn’t been stopped.”  
Sandor did not respond.

 

Sansa swallowed thickly; the voice that escaped her throat was barely above a whisper.  
“Did you do what everybody accused you of, Sandor? Did you… did you kill my family?”  
He stared at her fixedly.  
“Look into your heart Sansa. You know the answer to your own question.”  
She considered carefully before responding.  
“No, I know you couldn’t have done that. I’ve never believed it.”  
Sandor appeared relieved.  
Suddenly she remembered the dream she had about the fire and her jaw dropped.  
“It was you! You were there. You were the one who saved me.”  
He did not confirm or deny but rolled up one of his shirt sleeves to reveal shiny white and pink burn scars on his forearm.  
“Oh Sandor, no,” she sobbed as she realised what a sacrifice he had made for her to expose himself to the agony of flame once again in his life.

 

“There were others there too. Do you remember?” he asked gently.  
“Yes, there was a man but I don’t know who he was. He looked like he was dead. His eyes looked right at me but they didn’t blink.”  
“He was inconsequential. Just one of the lackeys. There were more. One in particular. Think.”  
Sansa screwed her face up in concentration. Just then with striking clarity she recalled a voice. The one that had been barking the orders; the one that she had heard again recently but had failed to recognise. 

 

“Oh my God. It was Bronn! Bronn was there that night. He…he killed my family?” she stuttered whipping around frenziedly to assure herself the man was nowhere in sight.  
“He was the hand that held the loaded gun Sansa but ask yourself the real question. Who put the gun in his hand?”  
Sansa stared into his eyes and began to shake her head slowly as she wrapped her arms around herself in utter disbelief.  
“No, no, no, no,” she muttered. “No it can’t be.”  
“Little bird -”  
“NO!” she cried out as she sank to her knees. “Not him. Not Petyr,” she wailed as she started to weep convulsively. “He wouldn’t, he couldn’t do that to me and my family” she sobbed. “Why, why would he do that?”

 

“He was desperate. His first attempt to take you failed.”  
“What do you mean? What first attempt?” she cried loudly.  
Sandor shushed her desperately before continuing.  
“The men in the van. They were his men. Trant, Davies and Stephens. Stephens spilled when I threatened to break his neck. They were supposed to deliver you to him and then he was going to take you to the Fingers. But he fucked it up. He chose the wrong men for the job. One cunt who couldn’t keep his filthy hands to himself and the other two were incompetent fuckwits with no balls who let him stop the van in the first place so he could have his fun. Davies and Stephens didn’t last long once they got sent up the river – he saw to that.”  
“I can’t…I can’t. No,” she wept. Suddenly she felt a surge of bile and doubled up retching. 

 

Sandor regarded her with concern.  
“Are you alright little bird?”  
“He was supposed to be my friend, Sandor. How could he do this to me; to my family? Why did he do it?” she wheezed out.  
“He was running out of options. Your parents forbade him from seeing you and he was furious with them. He needed to get hold of you and take full control. If he took you that night of the fire everyone would think that your body had been destroyed and would be none the wiser. Once your family was gone you would be completely alone and dependent on him. Unfortunately for him I busted up his party and after that the state refused to give him custody of you.”  
“I was only eight when he molested me. I was only thirteen years old when he killed my entire family,” she cried out. “He murdered innocent people, little children. He’s a monster. He’s hurt me more than Meryn Trant, Harry Hardyng and Ramsay Bolton ever did,” she stammered as she wiped furiously at the tears on her face. 

 

Sandor considered her with pain filled eyes. He stretched out his arms in futility, his fingers nearly grazing the wires of the electric fence before he dropped his arms uselessly to his sides. Sansa’s eyes appeared to glaze over.


	43. Chapter 43

“Sansa, love,” Petyr called out as he knocked on her bedroom door. “Can I come in?”  
“Sure Petyr,” she responded.  
She turned from her desk to face him as he opened the door.   
“What are you doing in here all night?”  
“Working on an assignment for my business data analysis class. It’s due in the day after tomorrow and it’s doing my head in,” she grumbled tiredly.  
Petyr walked over to the desk and put his hand on her shoulder.  
“You know I’m very proud of you. The way you have been able to put the past behind you and get on with your life is truly amazing.”  
“Thanks Petyr. It’s all thanks to you. I never could have gotten to the place I am now if you hadn’t been here for me.”  
Petyr took hold of her hand and led her to the bed at the other side of the room and sat her down next to him. 

 

He took both of her hands in his and searched her eyes intently.  
“Is something wrong Petyr?  
“No, nothing’s wrong sweetheart. Not exactly.”  
“What is it? I can tell something is going on with you. You can tell me, you know. You’re always there for me when I need you. I’m here for you too.”  
He gave her hands a gentle squeeze and sighed loudly.  
“It’s just….I miss you, that’s all,” he admitted.   
“What do you mean, you miss me. I’m right here,” she smiled but her smile faded when she registered the serious look on his face.  
“Things have changed between us Sansa. We used to be so close. We used to do everything together but you’ve been so distant with me lately. Have I done something to make you angry or upset with me?” he asked gently.  
“No, Petyr, not at all,” she exclaimed. “Why on earth would you think that?”

 

“I hardly see you anymore and when I do you barely talk to me. When was the last time we ate a meal out together? When was the last time we went out for a gelato at the park, or went to see a classic movie at the cinema? I really miss you Sansa.”  
Sansa felt tears brimming as she listened to his heartfelt entreaty. She felt a stab of remorse as she understood where all this was coming from. She had been so caught up in her life at the university and her new part time job at a small café on the high street that she had slowly but surely started to cut Petyr from her life. It wasn’t intentional but between classes, work, library study and evenings out with her new group of friends she had very little spare time on her hands. It was usually spent in her room sleeping, cramming for exams or finishing her written assignments. She knew what loneliness was like and it hurt her that she had been the cause of Petyr’s pain. 

 

She cradled the side of his face with one hand and stared at him intently.   
“I’m so sorry. I had no idea you felt this way. It’s just that I’ve been so busy with school and work I didn’t stop to think. I didn’t mean to ignore you. Please believe that.”  
Petyr sighed and grabbed her hand, kissing the palm.  
“I do, sweetheart. I know I’m just being a silly old man but it just feels as though you have finally seen the light and realise that you should be out having fun with your young friends and not cooped up in here with me.”  
Sansa shook her head vigorously.  
“Please don’t talk about yourself like that. You’re not an old man and you’re not silly. And I’m here because I want to be. I don’t think you realise how important you are to me. I’m sorry if I haven’t always shown it.”

 

Petyr stared at her for a long while then reached around her neck with both hands unclasping the chain around her neck. He slipped the ring from the chain and took her left hand in his.  
“Then show me now how much I mean to you. Tell me you’ll wear this ring on your finger,” he whispered, his eyes full of longing.  
Sansa’s breath hitched and she removed her hand from his, her breathing accelerating as she felt the blood rush to her face. She swallowed thickly.  
“What are you asking me Petyr?” she enquired in a small voice.  
“I want you to marry me Sansa.”

 

Stunned and not knowing quite how to respond, she stood and faced away from him, her head bowed as she tried to compose herself. Petyr came up close behind her and grasped her lightly by the elbow to turn her to face him.  
“Please say ‘yes’. You will make me the happiest man on the planet.”  
Sansa felt a tear trickling down her face. Petyr rubbed his thumb lightly across the apple of her cheek wiping at the wetness there.  
“I can’t Petyr. I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I love you. You know that. But not in the way a wife loves a husband.”  
“But perhaps in time you could. I will do anything to make you happy,” he pleaded, his face filled with desperation. She had never seen him like this before and it frightened her. But no matter how much it hurt both of them she had to be honest and stand firm with him. She took a deep breath.

 

“You’re my dear friend. We’ve been in each other’s lives for so long. We’ve been living alone here now for some time. If there was anything more than friendship between us I would have felt it by now. I don’t want to hurt you but I can’t marry you Petyr. If I did it would only hurt us both more in the long run.”  
One of Petyr’s hand fell to her hip, massaging her gently while the other smoothed her hair.   
“Please Sansa,” he whispered as he leant in to kiss her.  
She brought her hands to his chest and as gently as she could she pushed at him. He did not relinquish his hold on her but he made no move to close the gap either.  
“No, Petyr,” she replied firmly.

 

Petyr dropped his hands from her and nodded his head almost imperceptibly, his eyes downcast.  
Sansa rubbed her hand up and down his arm seeking to give him some comfort but he moved further away.  
“Please don’t hate me now Petyr. I don’t think I could handle that,” she mumbled.  
“I don’t hate you Sansa. I could never hate you. I hate myself,” he muttered as he met her eyes.  
“What do you mean?”  
“I’ve ruined everything between us now. How are we supposed to be around each other now after this?” he hissed angrily. She realised he was angry with himself not her.  
“It’s going to be a little awkward for sure. But we’ll get past it,” she reassured him.  
“I’m not going to just get past it,” Petyr rasped out.

 

“Okay,” she said tremblingly. “Then maybe I should think about moving out.”  
She detected a quick flash of panic in his eyes but then his expression quickly returned to its usual neutrality.  
“Is that what you want to do?” he asked a little coldly.  
It wasn’t what she wanted but he was clearly not happy to try and return to the way things had been between them before his proposal, if that was even possible, so she felt like maybe there was little choice.  
“I don’t know Petyr,” she answered honestly. “It’s something to think about. I don’t want to make a decision right now in the heat of the moment. Unless of course you want me to leave?” she ventured.  
“I want you to do what will make you happiest, as I always have,” he answered a little stiffly as he placed the ring on her desk.

 

She knew she should give it back to him and tell him that she could no longer keep it but she took one look at his face and didn’t have the heart. Instead she moved closer to him and gently wrapped her arms around him. He embraced her back but very tentatively and with a loud sigh.  
“I’m sorry. You know I still care about you. Let’s not make any hasty decisions just yet, okay?” she asked.  
“You’re right, as always. Good night Sansa.”  
“Good night Petyr,” she said as she gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek.   
He turned towards the door and shot her an indecipherable look before closing it softly behind him.


	44. Chapter 44

Sansa snapped back to the present, her eyes wide in sudden realisation. Sandor stood stock still on the other side of the fence, a look of consternation on his face. 

 

“Where did you go just now, little bird,” he asked.  
“I just realised something. I know that Petyr wasn’t in any way involved in Harry’s attack on me. That was just my usual bad luck,” she began.   
“The way he fucked up Hardyng in the clink was perhaps the one thing I could give him props for though. He did a service to womankind,” Sandor growled.  
Sansa blanched.  
“Petyr did that too?”  
“The second attack - the gelding – yes, that was him. The first attack on Hardyng when he copped the hiding of a lifetime: that was one of my jail buddies. He owed me a favour so I called it in.”  
Sansa stared at him in shock but, unable to muster an ounce of sympathy for Harry, she continued with her musings.

 

“I was right all along about Ramsay though. Petyr did encourage me to date him knowing what he would do to me. It can’t just be a coincidence. It was shortly after Petyr asked me to marry him and I turned him down.”  
Sandor’s eyes widened and his breathing hitched.  
“ He’d been getting very clingy with me. He was upset that I wasn’t spending any time with him. One night he proposed to me but I told him that I didn’t love him in that way. Things became very strained between us after that. I even talked about moving out and finding a place of my own. That’s when he introduced me to Ramsay. Oh my God. He knew he’d taken a step too far and he was on the verge of losing me altogether. He wanted to make me even more reliant on him so he pushed me towards that psychopath to break me,” she bit out.

 

Sandor scratched his chin in contemplation.  
“I don’t think he could have known how deranged Bolton was. Bolton could easily have killed you and he never would have risked losing you to him had he known. But he had to know the cunt was a womaniser – it was public knowledge.”  
“Yes, it was. I was such a naïve fool. Some of my friends warned me what he was from the stories they read in the gossip pages. I rarely read those things myself and even less often put any stock in them, so I put my head in the sand and ignored it all. He was so good to me in the start that I simply couldn’t credit all the bad things that were written about him,” she mumbled.  
Sandor grunted as he put two and two together.  
“Baelish would have known that it would all fall apart in the end, that you would have nowhere else to go and that you would not want to be alone. He was trying to make himself into your saviour again, Sansa. That’s his MO. Unfortunately for him and for you Ramsay was one hell of a sick puppy,” Sandor added.  
“You keep talking about Ramsay in the past tense,” Sansa stammered.  
“Ramsay Bolton is dead. Has been for weeks. It’s been all over the news.”

 

Sansa started to giggle. Sandor stared at her in concern. She rose to her feet, her whole body trembling and she shivered although the air surrounding them was very warm. She felt numb and her eyes started to lose their focus as she gazed off in a trance. A long low keening noise escaped from her throat.  
“Sansa. Sansa!” Sandor hissed loudly. “Snap out of it.”  
She shook her head and stared at him. She took a deep shaky breath as she slowly regained her senses.  
“Stay with me little bird,” he urged.

 

“I’ve been running scared all this time for no reason. Oh Gods. It’s all been one enormous lie. Please help me. You have to help me,” she pleaded eventually in a rush.  
“Of course I’ll help you. But first we’ve got to find a way through this buggering fence,” he rasped. “Do you know where the controls are?”  
Sansa thought back. She remembered seeing Bronn using a remote control when powering the fence up and down.  
“Maybe. I can check in Bronn’s quarters but he might have taken the remote control with him when he went out to the pool. It’s worth a try though.”

 

Suddenly Sandor’s posture became rigid, a deep scowl tugging at the unburned side of his mouth as his eyes fixed on something over Sansa’s shoulder. His hand moved to the inside pocket of his jacket.  
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a deep baritone voice rumbled, as the gate to the side of them clicked open.  
Sansa whipped around in fear, her stomach lurching as she saw Bronn approaching with a slow but steady gait. In his hand he held a gun, it was cocked and trained directly at her.  
“Take it out slowly and drop it on the ground or she’s dead.”  
Sandor extracted a pistol and dropped it immediately at his feet, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender.

 

“Come on in, little brother. I’ve been expecting you.”


	45. Chapter 45

Sansa turned to stare at Sandor who slowly approached the open gate and entered the property with a limping gait.  
“Brother?” she gasped out. “Bronn is your brother?”  
“His name is not Bronn. His name is Gregor. Gregor Clegane.”  
“At your service,” the man grunted out with a smirk. “Have you missed me shit face?”  
“As much as I would miss an anal probe I reckon.”  
“Now that’s no way to speak to your older brother. So little respect. Especially as I’m the one who seems to be holding all the cards here.”

 

“It’s a little difficult to respect someone who whores himself out for that little fucker Baelish,” Sandor snarled out. “How did that happen anyway? Did he come to you or did you go to him?”  
“Let us just say that we both realised a long time ago that together we could achieve a win win. He gets to fuck this little slut here until he’s blue in the face and get his revenge on you and I get to finally cram your worthless balls down your throat and watch you choke like the filthy dog you are. You are so fucking predictable. We knew you would come just like the brainless cunt you’ve always been. Surely you knew how this would all end,” Gregor rumbled.  
“What makes you think I care about my life?”  
“I know that you never have little brother. Not since I barbecued your ugly face for you. But you care about hers,” he smiled maliciously waving the gun in Sansa’s direction.  
Sansa paled and began to shake.  
“You’re not going to shoot her. Baelish would have your balls,” he grunted through clenched teeth.  
Gregor laughed loudly.  
“You think I give a flying fuck about Littlefinger? If it came down to it I’d just as soon off her and him and be done with this whole pile of shit. All he’s done for years is follow his Goddamn dick; the man is nothing but a dumb cunt, no doubt.”

 

“But as it happens, no. The money’s still good for now so he has my continued ‘support’. I’m not going to shoot her. Just you,” he sneered as he levelled his gun at Sandor. “I’ve waited a long, long time for this.”  
“No!” Sansa cried desperately as she suddenly sprang towards Gregor and knocked his arm up. The gun discharged, the bullet whizzing harmlessly over Sandor’s head.  
Sandor catapulted himself at Gregor who was not fast enough to recover from the shock of Sansa’s actions. The two burly men collided heavily with audible grunts, Sandor bringing Gregor to the ground with a resounding thud. 

 

“Run Sansa. Now!” Sandor yelled.  
“No, I can’t. I’m not leaving you,” she cried out.  
“Fuck it, will you just go!” he grunted out desperately, but Sansa stayed firmly rooted to the spot.  
Sandor scrabbled around in his other jacket pocket with one hand while fending his brother’s gun hand off with the other but the much larger stronger man was beginning to prevail. Eventually he succeeded in extracting a large switchblade knife and flicked it open. Before he could use it, Gregor grabbed his wrist in a vice like grip. 

 

Sansa cried out and wrung her hands in anguish; she watched the titanic battle as the two men writhed and rolled on the ground in a confusing and ever changing tangle of limbs. Suddenly remembering the gun that Sandor had dropped by the gate she ran to retrieve it. She turned again to face the two men still battling each other ferociously but she couldn’t take a shot. They were moving so unpredictably, her hands were shaking so violently that she was too frightened of hitting the wrong target. 

 

As she stood frozen with indecision a crimson spray of blood erupted from between the two men while the gun simultaneously discharged. Sansa screamed and took a single step towards them dropping the gun. Sandor had come to rest on top of his brother who was lying on his back with his hands clutching convulsively at his throat. He lay gurgling while blood continued to pump from his severed carotid artery; Sandor rolled limply off his brother and lay on his back panting. Eventually Gregor’s struggles for life ceased, his eyes staring sightlessly up at the clear blue sky above. Sansa compelled her frozen limbs to move while Sandor managed to sit up and then to stand but the effort was clearly taxing him. He groaned and pressed his fingers to the left of his abdomen at his ribcage. The front of his shirt was completely soaked in blood.  
“Sandor?” she mumbled, “Is that your blood or is it his?”  
“I’m sorry little bird. It’s mine.”


	46. Chapter 46

“No!” she cried as he lurched to the oak tree as if in a drunken stupor and leant his back against the trunk, both hands clutching at his wound, blood oozing through his fingers and down his torso in a steady stream. He grimaced and groaned in pain, his eyes squeezing shut in agony. He slid slowly down to the ground once again  
Sansa knelt by him and lay her hands over his and wept.  
“Sandor, please hang on for me. I’ll run and get help. It will be okay.”  
The man opened his pain filled eyes and shook his head slowly.  
“No little bird. It’s too late. I’ve run my last race.”  
“No, don’t say that. If I go now-”

 

He shook his head and gave her a look of quiet resignation.  
“It’s at least fifteen minutes by foot to the next property over. Then emergency services have to mobilize from Water Gardens. There’s too much blood. The bullet has hit my liver or nicked the abdominal aorta. I don’t know which. It doesn’t matter anyhow. It won’t be long now either way; a matter of minutes” he grunted out.  
“No, I’m not going to let you die,” she cried as she attempted to move away from him.  
With surprising strength and speed given his condition, his hand shot out and grasped her wrist, his fingers slipping slightly from the blood that slicked his fingers.  
“Please Sansa. Don’t leave me. I don’t want to die alone.”  
He groaned and released her wrist, exhausted and pained from the effort.  
“Oh Sandor,” she muttered miserably, as she stroked the lank hair from his eyes.

 

“What can I do? There has to be a medical kit, painkillers in the villa somewhere or in the caretaker’s quarters.”  
“Nothing is going to help me now. Only you. I just want to feel your touch and hear your sweet voice. Don’t leave, please,” he wheezed out.  
“I won’t. I won’t ever leave you,” she whispered.  
“I’m sorry I let you down little bird.”  
“You haven’t!” she exclaimed. “You’ve always been there for me when you could. All of my life. I just didn’t know it. And now we’ve only just found each other again and you’re going to leave me,” she sobbed.  
“I don’t want to leave you but this buggered up body has other ideas,” he rasped out. “I wanted so much to kill that fucker and take you away from this place. But now I’ll never get that chance.”

 

Sandor moaned long and loud, his eyes squeezing shut as his breathing became more laboured. Sansa wiped a tear from her cheek as she helplessly witnessed the extent of her friend’s suffering. Eventually he opened his eyes and stared at her with a determined expression.  
“Sansa, you have to be strong. Once I’m gone, take that knife and a gun and run out that open gate. Run as hard and as fast as you can away from here before he gets back.”  
“But where will I go? What will I do?”  
“You will live. You will go on. You are strong. So strong. You can do it.”  
“I can’t,” she whimpered. “I can’t go on alone. I just can’t.”  
Sandor reached for her face and grabbed her chin in his large fingers but the hold was weak and trembling.  
“Yes you can. You don’t need me. You don’t need anyone to save you. You can save yourself.”

 

Sandor groaned loudly and dropped his hand from her.  
“Are you alright? Please stay with me,” Sansa cried desperately.  
“Cold so cold,” he hissed through chattering teeth.  
Sansa wrapped her arms around him and hugged him close, her cheek resting against the ruined skin of his face.  
She reached into the pocket of her jeans and extracted a very worn, tattered pink ribbon and placed it gently in one of his hands.  
“Please Sandor, you have to live. So you can tie this ribbon in my hair for me,” she stammered.  
He tried to lift his arms towards her but the effort was too much for him. With a groan they fell limply to his sides but his hand still grasped the ribbon in an iron grip.

 

“Ease me into quiet dreams, little bird. Sing for me,” he rasped, his voice now weak, barely above a whisper.  
She sucked in a shaky breath, hot tears trailing down her cheeks as she embraced him and sang in a soft trembling voice right against his ear.

 

Little sparrow, little sparrow  
Precious fragile little thing  
Little sparrow, little sparrow  
Flies so high and feels no pain

 

She sobbed loudly as she felt a last shuddering exhale and his body slumped under her, his head lolling limply to the side.  
“Sandor!” she wailed. “Don’t leave me. You are my only friend. I love you.”  
She held his face in her hands and rained kisses on him desperately searching for any sign of life but she could find none.  
“No, no, no, come back,” she sobbed as she rested her cheek against his.  
After some time, sniffling and gasping for breath she sat up and studied him. He looked so peaceful that she could almost fancy that he was merely asleep. She reached out with her hand and stroked her fingers down the scarred side of his face and leaned in to place a gentle kiss on his cooling lips.  
“Goodbye Sandor. Sleep well, my friend,” she whispered as she stood on quaking legs and trudged slowly away from him, wiping the tears from her eyes.

 

She approached Gregor’s corpse cautiously and felt around in his pockets for the fence remote control, finding it in the inside pocket of his jacket. She stopped to pick up the switchblade knife that lay nearby. She eyed the gun closest to her but left it lying in the dirt untouched. She did not move towards the gate but towards the villa slowly, her fingers toying with the handle of the knife. 

“No more running.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to all the Sandor fans out there. Please don’t hate me too much. At least he does not need to run and suffer anymore and I gave him a heroic and noble death. He made the ultimate sacrifice for the one and only person in the world he ever truly loved and died with her arms around him. *sniffs*  
> Next up a rare Davos POV for a change of pace


	47. Chapter 47

“53 bottles of beer on the wall,  
53 bottles of beer,  
If one bottle should happen to fall,  
52 bottles of beer on the wall.

52 bottles –”  
“For fuck’s sake. Will you put a sock in it already,” Stannis growled.  
“Well sorrr-yyyyy. Just trying to lighten the mood a bit.”  
“Don’t make me wish I’d gone with Oberyn instead of you, Davos.”  
Davos sighed and sped up Oberyn’s second car, a black BMW, to keep up with the silver Audi which had streaked away ahead of them. He had quickly learned that Oberyn was a bit of a lead footed driver and keeping up with him along the winding roads was proving to be a bit of a challenge. In the absence of operational GPS, Oberyn had the one and only piece of reliable navigational equipment on board: the map. While their host did have some familiarity with the roads which was a blessing, there were many private trails and driveways that snaked off the main road which complicated matters significantly. Stannis had insisted on taking two cars so that he would have an opportunity to speak with Sansa alone on the way back, in the event that she elected to leave with them. He was in no mental state to drive so Davos had taken the wheel. 

 

“How long before we get there?” Stannis enquired in frustration.  
Davos sighed. If his friend asked him one more blessed time ‘are we there yet’ or any other permutation thereof, he was going to toss his irritating arse out of the car and watch it bounce and have not a single regret about it. For now, he swallowed his irritation because he knew how frantic Stannis was becoming and answered in the steadiest tone he could muster.  
“Well, there’s no GPS available here so I can’t check and Oberyn has the map but he did say it would take about an hour and half from his joint so we should be there any minute.”  
Stannis tapped his fingers on his knees and scowled deeply. Davos turned to glance at him in concern before returning his eyes to the road.  
“How are you holding up.”  
“Fine,” he bit out.  
“Doesn’t sound like it,” Davos replied lightly.

 

“Well, I don’t know how you expect me to be. I don’t know what we’re going to find when we get there. If I’ve read the situation between us all wrong I honestly don’t know what I’m going to do. Sansa clearly won’t stay with Baelish once she learns that Ramsay is dead and if she fully understands and accepts the truth of what he did to her as a child, but it doesn’t necessarily follow that she is going to want me in her life,” he admitted.  
Davos felt immediately sorry for his friend but also very concerned about what extremes Stannis could be driven to should the situation not pan out as they all hoped. His greatest fear was that Stannis would snap and pulverise the living shit out of Baelish. He wasn’t at all sure that Oberyn would be able to restrain himself either. Not that he didn’t feel an overwhelming urge to kill the man himself, but he could not allow things to get out of control. He had a responsibility to keep things on an even keel and he was determined not to fail his more volatile friends.  
“Whatever happens, just don’t lose your shit Stannis. Promise me.”  
“Alright, alright. It’s just that I love that woman so much Davos. I can’t lose her.”  
Davos sighed heavily and clapped Stannis on the knee.   
“Just try and keep the faith. There’s no point in sitting here and thinking of the worst possible outcome. Oh, wait a second, Oberyn’s pulling over.”

 

Oberyn had stopped at the far end of a small picnic area and parked the car. Due to the position of the trees growing around the area, the car was barely visible from the road. Davos slowed and parked right next to him. Stepping from the car, Oberyn approached the other two men with map in hand.   
“Lucky the car’s registered in your name otherwise you’d be paying my fucking speeding infringements,” Davos grunted.  
Oberyn looked at him blankly, shrugged his shoulders and held out the map.

 

“This is where we are,” the man stated, indicating a position on the map. “See that road just up there?” he asked pointing to a small track veering off to the left a little further up the road. “The villa should be about twenty minutes’ walk up that track. We should leave the cars here and proceed on foot. We do not want to alert anyone to our presence in case that fucking Littlefinger intends violence towards us.”   
They had barely begun to walk up the winding gravel track when suddenly Davos grabbed both of their arms urgently.   
“Quick, behind those bushes, there’s a car coming.”   
They lunged wildly to the side of the track and hid behind the thick vegetation as a car rounded a bend and approached. They all craned their necks and peered intently at the driver’s face through the tinted windows.   
“That was him. It was Baelish,” Stannis growled as the car rapidly disappeared from view.  
“He is gone. Let us move,” Oberyn urged.


	48. Chapter 48

Sansa sat in her bathrobe snuggled up on the long couch in the outdoor lounge reading a magazine that she had purchased at the airport upon arrival in Dorne. She glanced at her watch. 5.30pm. Surely he would be back soon? He had been gone for what felt like an eternity. Just then she heard the crunch of gravel as a car neared the security gate. As Petyr leaned out to hit the intercom she picked up the remote and powered down the fence. She waited until he was back in the car before obscuring the remote behind her magazine, restoring the power to the fence and hiding it underneath a throw cushion. She returned her attention to the magazine but looked up as she heard his footfalls nearing. He was frowning and looked completely worn out. She stood and closed the gap gifting him a small smile.

 

“You’re back. I’m glad. I missed you.”  
Petyr searched her face with undisguised scepticism.  
“Did you have a tolerable day? I trust Bronn didn’t give you too much trouble.”  
“He was his usual charming self,” Sansa remarked with a smirk. “Nothing that couldn’t be handled. How was your day? Did you manage to get everything done that you needed to?”  
“All is in order. It’s peak holiday season so options were a bit limited. After some haggling I have managed to secure separate berths for the two of us and for Bronn on a luxury cruise ship that leaves port at 9.30 am tomorrow. We should arrive in the Fingers two days later. Your quarters in the East wing of Coldwater have been prepared. You should want for nothing,” he stated coldly.  
“Thank you Petyr. I appreciate everything you’re doing for me. I really do,” she replied.  
“Good. Now excuse me Sansa,” he said as he tried to move past her, “I am tired and it is going to be an early start in the morning. Please make sure you are ready to leave by 6.30am. It will take us a couple of hours at least to drive to Planky Town. ”

 

She blocked his path and moved closer to him, reaching out to run her fingers through the hair at his temples.  
“Not yet. I need to talk to you about something.”  
Petyr sighed impatiently and flinched his head back in irritation.  
“The time for talking is over.”  
“Then maybe we don’t have to talk,” she replied as she tilted her head bringing her lips to his softly while her hands clasped behind his neck.  
Petyr jerked his head back again and grabbed at her wrists.  
“What is this? What are you doing?”  
“I’m doing what I should have done a long time ago,” she whispered.  
Petyr swallowed thickly and released her wrists from his grasp, his eyes widening.  
“What do you mean?”

 

Sansa suddenly wrapped her arms around his waist and sobbed. She could not see his face but he stood stiffly with his arms at his sides and breathed heavily.  
“I’m sorry Petyr. I’ve been such a fool. I know now how much you mean to me. I can’t be without you. I never should have pushed you away. I’ve always pushed you away. I think somewhere deep inside I knew how I felt about you but I was scared. I’m not scared anymore because I know what I want now. I want you. I love you Petyr. I do. I love you.”  
Petyr pushed at her shoulders and stepped back to regard her with narrowed eyes.

 

“What about Baratheon?”  
“I was confused Petyr. I never told you this but he saved my life one night when I was walking back from a nightclub.”  
Petyr’s eyes widened in surprise and shock.  
“What are you talking about?”  
“I was attacked by three men. Stannis and his friend saved me from them and he was injured in the process. I think that’s why I fell for his charm. He put himself on the line for me and I was so grateful. He got me at a weak moment and I surrendered to him. I realise now what a big mistake that was. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t like what we have. You are the only one who has really been there for me. You are the one who has saved me time and time again.”

 

“Why did you stop me when we were at the beach,” he enquired softly.  
“I don’t know,” she replied in a quavering voice. “I think it was because I was scared by the intensity of what I was feeling. I’ve been through so much in my past that I have become so numb. I have run so hard for so long away from feeling pain that I no longer feel the pleasure either. Until you. When you touched me it was like nothing else I’ve ever felt before and it was because I love you. I never meant to push you away. I panicked. I’m sorry. Please tell me I haven’t killed your love for me. Please Petyr,” she pleaded.  
Slowly, cautiously his arms lifted from his sides and embraced her at first tentatively and then with a loud and shaky exhale he crushed her to him and held her tight.  
“Sansa,” he breathed as he sought her lips, kissing her deeply, hungrily.  
His tongue parted her lips and fought with hers as his hands travelled to the small of her back pressing her close. 

 

Eventually Sansa broke the kiss and pushed gently at his chest to create some distance between them. She dug into the pocket of her robe and extracted the diamond ring he had given her the year before, eliciting an audible gasp from Petyr. She took hold of his hand and placed the ring in his palm. His fingers closed tightly around it, his eyes fixed intently on her.  
“I never should have said ‘no’ to you. I know that now. Will you ask me again? Please?” she pleaded.  
Petyr took her left hand and held the ring just in front of her ring finger.  
“Will you marry me Sansa Stark? Will you be my wife?” his voice lilted soft and low.  
“Yes. Yes I will marry you Petyr,” she smiled.  
He placed the ring on her finger and brought it up to plant a gentle kiss on it. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed at her earlobe, whispering sweet words in her ear. She felt a warm wet tear trickle down her throat as he hugged her close.


	49. Chapter 49

After some time Sansa moved away from Petyr and tugged at the tie of the bathrobe revealing the skimpy white silk chemise that he had arranged for her. His glistening wolfish eyes devoured her as she stepped slowly towards him dropping the robe to the floor.  
“I want you to make love to me now. I need you Petyr. I want you,” she said breathily as she cupped the side of his face with one hand.  
Petyr’s lips parted slightly and he took a deep tremulous breath.  
“My love. I have waited so long for you to say those words to me,” he replied, his voice heavy with desire and emotion as he wove his arms around her and crushed her to him, drawing her in for a deep passionate kiss. Sansa stroked the fingers of one hand through the hair at his temple and brought her other hand down to squeeze the hardening bulge between his legs. Petyr groaned and broke the kiss, scooping her into his arms and carrying her into the bedroom.

 

He lay her down on the bed and stared down intently at her with blackened eyes, his breathing shallow and rapid. He quickly divested himself of his clothing and lowered himself down on top of her, supporting most of his weight on his forearms. She felt his hard member pressing insistently at her mound as he moved against her. He commenced a searing trail of kisses and licks down her throat and chest and then slipped his finger under a strap of the chemise and lowered it down her shoulder, peeling back the fabric to expose one breast.

 

“Beautiful, beautiful girl,” he whispered as his fingers lightly brushed over her nipple. She moaned with the sensation and arched her back bringing the nipple closer to his lips. He took her into his mouth, his teeth lightly grazing, his tongue swirling as he sucked at her greedily. His other hand massaged her other breast through the fabric of the chemise. She groaned and bucked her hips into him, his cock pressing against her panties right at her sex. Petyr let out a long loud moan and started to rock himself against her. She whimpered and dug her nails into his back, parting her legs to allow him more access.

 

He broke away from her long enough to tug her panties off and lay himself back down on top of her, pushing the silk of the chemise up until her sex was fully exposed. His cock slid along her warm moist folds as he moved against her, his breathing becoming increasingly laboured. She felt the hot blunt nudge of his head right at her folds and gasped.  
“Wait Petyr,” she said firmly.  
He froze and glared at her in consternation.  
“I want to look you in the eyes and I want this to be slow and go on for a long time,” she added.  
His expression softened as he rolled to the side and onto his back while she pulled off the chemise and straddled him and rocked, rubbing herself against the length of his erect member but not taking him inside. He reached up to fondle her breasts and tweak at her nipples as he groaned with each sway of her hips. 

 

As her movements continued he grimaced and started to look quite desperate.  
“Please Sansa. I need…”  
“What do you need Petyr?”  
“Aaaah. I need you to take me inside you. Please,” he groaned, his eyes closing in painful ecstasy.  
“Does this bring back memories for you Petyr?”  
“What do you mean?” he grunted.  
“Of the times I used to sit on your lap as a little girl all those years ago.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh Oh. This doesn't look good :(


	50. Chapter 50

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for graphic description of violence in this chapter

His eyes snapped open and he froze, his hands leaving her breasts as though he had been struck by lightning.  
“What?” he asked weakly.  
She did not answer but continued to rock languidly against him.  
“Mmmm. You see I’ve been having these strange dreams and flashbacks lately about my loving Uncle Petyr. An eight year old girl sitting on his lap. Uncle is kissing, touching, fondling the little girl. His hand is on hers which is squeezing his cock,” she intoned, her voice completely devoid of emotion.  
“Sansa, that never happened; your memories are confused, I-”  
Sansa stilled her motions and interrupted him with a light press of a forefinger against his lips and spoke matter-of-factly.  
“Well of course, I can’t ask my parents all about you because they’re dead but Clegane was quite forthcoming.”

 

“Clegane?” he whispered in shock. “You know who he is? He told you?”  
“Yes. He really didn’t have much time for you, you know. You really should be a bit more careful about the people you hire. No honour amongst thieves after all,” she smirked. “But he wasn’t the one I meant.”  
“What?” Petyr muttered.  
“Sandor. Sandor Clegane. You remember him? The one you accused of molesting me and of murdering my family? Gregor killed him but not before Sandor slashed his throat,” she reported robotically.  
Petyr swallowed thickly and looked as though he was about to eject the contents of his stomach.  
”Sandor told me everything before he died. He told me about Trant, about who really killed my family, about Ramsay’s death and about your unhealthy obsession with a little girl that has brought us to where we are now. I guess somewhere deep inside I always knew things weren’t right but my mind wouldn’t let me believe that you could do such things to someone you profess to love.”

 

Petyr lifted her off him and moved her to sit beside him.  
“Clegane was lying. I love you. I have always loved you. Haven’t I always been there for you when you’ve needed me?”  
“I’ve only needed you because that’s the way you’ve orchestrated it my whole life. One by one, you’ve removed every single person that ever meant anything to me and left me with only you.”  
Petyr shook his head vigorously.  
“No, that man has poisoned your mind against me. I have always put your needs before my own. I have waited for you for years. I have loved you for as long as I can remember.”  
“So that is truly what you thought you were doing when I was sitting on your lap? Showing me your love? You loved me when I was eight years old?” she asked incredulously.  
“Yes. But I did not see you as a child. I saw the woman that you would become. The woman you are now and that I want with every particle of my being,” he exclaimed.

 

She cried out in horror.  
“You touched me; you made me touch you. Regardless of how you wanted to see me or what you wanted me to be in your mind, I was only a small child. Not a woman with a choice and someone who could give reasoned consent. I was a helpless child with no way of saying ‘no’. Your love is not love Petyr. It is a twisted, perverted sickness.”  
“Don’t say that Sansa,” he mumbled miserably.  
“You don’t know what love is. I don’t think you’ve ever really loved anyone in your life. You want me Petyr. You just said so yourself. But you don’t love me. You’ve systematically destroyed everyone I love; you’ve destroyed me,” she yelled as she yanked the diamond ring from her finger and flung it against the opposite wall.  
“No, no Sansa!” he cried desperately. “You’re wrong. Please, let me show you how much you mean to me.”

 

Before Petyr could touch her, Sansa reached underneath her pillow and grabbed at the knife flicking it open and slashing viciously at him. He managed to jerk backwards to avoid the full force of the blow and grabbed at the wound, blood seeping steadily through his fingers. He stared at her in shock.   
“That was for my father. This is for my mother, you bastard!” she screamed as she lunged towards him and stabbed him in the chest. He cried out and grabbed convulsively at the injury.

 

“And this is for Robb. And this is for Arya, and this is for Jon, and Rickon and Bran,” she shrieked as she continued to stab at him frenziedly. She heard no sounds, she felt completely numb. She no longer felt as though she was connected to her body; her arm seemed to lift and plunge of its own accord, the knife smacking wetly into Petyr’s inert form.

 

She stopped for a moment to catch her breath and to wipe the blood splatters from her eyes, looking down at what she had done. Petyr’s chest and hands were puckered and slashed with stab wounds, his ruined flesh and the bedsheets underneath him completely slathered in blood. His breathing was shallow and rapid and his eyes were starting to glaze over. He lifted one hand towards her but the effort was too much for him and his arm fell limply back on to the bed.  
“Sansa,” he whispered weakly. “I love you. I will always love you.”  
She wiped at tears that streaked through the blood on her face and that dripped onto Petyr’s chest, mixing with the pool of blood that had settled there. She stared at him for a long moment.  
“And this, this is for Sandor,” she barked harshly as she delivered the final killing blow to his throat, a fountain of blood gushing into the air, coating her hair, her face, her chest. There was a soft gurgling sound in Petyr’s throat as the light slowly left his grey green eyes. She looked away from him, staring absently at the abstract canvas of blood spatters on the bedroom wall in front of her. Time seemed to stop.


	51. Chapter 51

The three men quickened their pace until cresting a hill, they spied the electric fence with the villa beyond, and approached stealthily. Curtains were drawn across both sliding doors of the building and there appeared to be no signs of life in the outdoor entertainment room.  
“Oh that’s just great,” Stannis grunted as he neared the fence.  
“Right then. We clearly can’t get in this way and we probably wouldn’t want to use the front entrance anyway. Let’s check around the back,” Davos suggested.  
“What if we can’t get through there either? What then?” Stannis hissed.  
“Let’s jump that hurdle when we get to it,” he replied calmly.  
Leading the way Davos followed the line of the fence around the side of the property. As they approached the rear of the estate he grunted and came to a complete stop in front of the other two men. Stannis nearly walked straight into the back of him.

 

“Fuck!” Stannis gasped out as he caught a glimpse of what Davos had already spotted. Oberyn behind him was silent but his mouth was agape and his eyes were wide in shock.  
They moved cautiously towards the open gate and walked up to the bodies of two dead men. One had bled out from a vicious slash wound to the throat and lay in a pool of coagulating blood, his mouth contorted into an agonised rictus. The other with burn scars to one side of his face sat serenely as though asleep under a tree, the front of his shirt and his trousers completely soaked in blood.  
“Is that who I think it is?” Stannis asked gesticulating at the man under the tree.  
“Sandor Clegane,” Davos confirmed.  
“What is he doing here? And who is this other one?” Oberyn asked.  
“Haven’t a clue. Big fucking bastard though,” Davos replied.

 

Something drew Stannis closer to Sandor Clegane. As he neared, his gaze dropped to spy the pink ribbon the man still grasped in his clenched fist; he went wild with fright as he tensed and prepared to sprint to the back door of the villa. Davos stepped in front of him and grabbed him by the shoulders.  
“Get the fuck out of my way Davos. I mean it,” he flared.  
“Get a grip, Stannis. Now,” Davos warned as he tightened his grasp.  
“But what if she’s in danger? Or what if she’s already dead,” he yelled, pointing at the ribbon in Sandor Clegane’s hand.  
Davos shook him and hissed angrily.  
“Sssh. Keep your voice down. You running in there like a madman isn’t going to help anything. We need to keep calm.”  
Stannis glanced at Oberyn who gave him a warning glance that conveyed the intention of a crash tackle, if required.  
Stannis shook his friend’s hands off him and rubbed his fingers through his hair roughly. He took a couple of deep breaths and nodded.  
“Okay,” Davos said as he breathed out a sigh of relief. “I can’t see any movement through any of the windows. Let’s go.”

 

They moved stealthily towards the back door of the building. Davos put his ear up against the door but could detect no noises. He drew his gun as did Oberyn behind him. Carefully he wrapped his fingers around the door knob and pulled open the door. The kitchen was deserted and it was completely silent.  
“You and Stannis go check down that way,” Oberyn whispered. “I will take this hallway.”  
Oberyn moved off; Davos moved down a corridor that led to a large room, presumably the master bedroom with Stannis bringing up the rear. Davos pressed his ear to the door.  
“She’s in there. I can hear her singing,” he whispered urgently.  
Stannis glanced at him in confusion before the older man slowly pushed the door open. They stood in stunned silence, their jaws dropping as the interior of the room was gradually revealed.  
“Holy fucking fuck.” Davos muttered.


	52. Chapter 52

Hush, little baby, don't say a word.  
Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird

And if that mockingbird won't sing,  
Papa's gonna buy you a diamond ring

And if that diamond ring turns brass,  
Papa's gonna buy you a looking glass

 

“Sansa,” a calm deep voice sounded behind her. “Sansa, it’s over, he’s gone. Put the knife down. Sansa. Look at me.”  
She stopped singing and turned towards the door blinking furiously, her vision blurred by something wet and viscous running into her eyes. Wiping absently at her brow and squinting, she could make out the shape of a tall form standing just inside the door but it was indistinct as though shrouded in a thick fog. Something about the voice sounded familiar and oddly soothing but she couldn’t quite place it.   
“Sansa, sweetheart. It’s me. It’s Stannis.”  
She rubbed at her eyes and slowly raised herself from the bed with a moan, her exhausted muscles protesting with the strain. Her whole frame trembled so violently she struggled to stand upright. 

 

The man in front of her approached slowly, one arm extended.  
“Give me the knife, honey. Come on. I won’t hurt you. You know I would never hurt you.”  
She looked down at her own right hand in fascination as though she had only just seen it for the very first time. Where had the knife come from? Why was she naked and covered in blood? She glanced back towards the bed and tilted her head to the side in confusion.  
“Petyr?” she whispered, as her fingers relinquished their stranglehold and the knife clattered noisily to the floor.   
As though hypnotised, she began to approach the ruined body in the bed; her feet moved haltingly without her conscious agency.

 

“Sansa, stop. Don’t look at him. Look at me,” the voice commanded more firmly and loudly.  
As though her mind and body had been plunged into ice cold water, she snapped back to reality. Her head whipped around to look in the direction of the man who now stood only a couple of paces away. She lifted her gaze to his face and stared straight into his penetrating deep blue eyes. Like a man drowning her mind reached out and grasped desperately for the one thing that would save her from plunging headlong into the murky depths of her own despair.  
“Stannis?” she murmured.   
She took a step closer and stretched out her hand to touch his chest as if to check that he was really there and it wasn’t just one of her dream visions.  
He stood stock still, allowing her blood slicked fingers to explore the fabric of his shirt as her bottom lip started to tremble.  
“Stannis!” she sobbed, as she flung her arms around him and began to wail uncontrollably.  
They both sank to their knees on the floor clutching at each other; Stannis’s body shook as he too succumbed to the heightened emotions of the moment.  
“Sansa. Thank the Gods. I thought I’d lost you,” he rasped out as he wiped furiously at the tears in his eyes. He whispered soothingly into her ear and gradually the sound of his voice calmed her although she continued to weep quietly. Eventually, sensing that she had regained some modicum of composure, he disentangled himself from her embrace and brought his hands to the sides of her face and stared into her reddened eyes as she sniffled and gasped and hiccupped for breath. He gently brushed away the blood that remained on her forehead with his fingers and planted a soft chaste kiss there.

 

She pulled away and stared at him wide-eyed in sudden realisation.  
“You called me Sansa, not Alayne. You know who I really am?”  
“Yes, sweetheart. I know what happened to you. What Baelish did to you; I know about your family. Why you were running. I know it all.”  
“Why don’t you hate me then? You should hate me for lying to you. All I’ve ever done is lie to you.”   
“No. No, I could never hate you. I love you, Sansa. I regret that I didn’t tell you sooner. I think I’ve loved you from the first moment I laid eyes on you.”  
A fresh flood of tears started streaming down Sansa’s face but a small trembling smile also appeared.  
“I love you too Stannis. So much,” she sobbed as she settled her cheek against his chest and hugged him to her tightly, her tears wetting the fabric of his thin shirt.

 

“Ahem.”  
Sansa and Stannis both froze, their heads whipping around in the direction from which the voice had emanated. There stood a very concerned looking Davos and a shocked Oberyn Martell, whose widened eyes fixed on her before he quickly shifted his gaze. Sansa all of a sudden remembered that she was as naked as her Name Day and gasped, trying to hide herself behind Stannis’s body.   
“I saw a bathrobe on the floor in the lounge. I will retrieve it,” Oberyn offered quickly.  
He retreated from the room and reappeared moments later with the robe, handing it to Stannis with an awkward clearing of his throat while steadfastly keeping his eyes averted. Sansa shrugged it on gratefully.  
“What happened Sansa?” Davos asked gently.  
“He… Petyr killed them all. He killed my family, his man killed my friend Sandor - he’s outside. Ramsay’s dead. Petyr lied to me the whole time about everything. He did terrible things to me. Why, why did he have to do it? He was supposed to love me. He told me he loved me. I’ve got nothing left. He took it all,” she cried as she started to lose control of her emotions again.

 

Stannis hugged her close and glared at Davos who winced and uttered a curse at himself under his breath.  
“You’ve got us now sweetheart. We’re here for you. But right now we need to get you out of here.”  
“What about Petyr? He’s dead. Oh Gods, what have I done? I killed him in cold blood. The police. They will come for me now,” she stammered in dread, as the full import of her actions finally hit home.  
Stannis did not respond, only looked around at Davos and Oberyn whose eyes were trained on the ground. He walked over to them and spoke in a low voice; there was a bit of a hushed and serious discussion and then the two men nodded in apparent acquiescence. Oberyn handed Stannis a set of car keys.  
“We need to go, Sansa. Now. Come on love,” he said as he returned to her and hauled her by her hand from the floor.  
Taking one last look at Petyr’s bloodied form she shivered and allowed Stannis to steer her on trembling legs out of the bedroom and towards the front room of the villa. She noticed that Oberyn and Davos had not followed.  
“They’ll be along later,” Stannis explained. “Damn it, the fence,” he muttered.   
“The remote for the front gate – it’s here,” Sansa remembered as she retrieved it from under the throw cushion on the lounge and handed it to Stannis.

 

Suddenly full clarity returned and Sansa stopped dead in her tracks. Stannis regarded her with concern.  
“Wait, Stannis. I can’t just leave.”  
“What do you mean, love?” he asked gently.  
“Sandor. I can’t just leave him out there like that. He tried to save me from Petyr. He saved me twice when I was a child. He was the only real friend I ever had and I loved him. If we leave him here everyone will think he did this. That he killed Petyr because of the history between them. Please Stannis. He’s taken the blame for murders he was innocent of for years because of me. He suffered so much. We have to do something for him. I can’t just walk away. He deserves so much more from me than that.”  
Tears began to stream down her face while Stannis held onto her shoulders and regarded her with a pained expression.  
“I’m sorry Sansa. I know what he meant to you but he’s gone sweetheart. You can’t do anything for him now and while I never knew him I am sure he wouldn’t want you to do anything that would compromise your safety and your freedom. The best thing you can do for him now is to keep being strong and walk away from here and don’t look back. Live your life like he would have wanted you to and make his passing really mean something.”  
She wiped at her tears and eventually nodded her head almost imperceptibly.  
“Yes, okay,” she whispered, “he wanted me to go on. He wanted me to run. I didn’t. But I can walk out of here now because of him. With you,” she said as she touched her hand to Stannis’s face.  
He grabbed her fingers and brought them to his lips, kissing them softly.  
“Good girl. Come on, let’s get out of here,” he urged as he wove one arm around her waist and led her out of the villa. 

 

He started to walk her down the gravel path from the front gate but she began to tremble with fatigue and nervous exhaustion so he scooped her up and carried her the rest of the way to the junction with the main road. Checking for any oncoming cars and waiting until they had cleared, he headed quickly towards the BMW parked in the picnic ground carpark, helping her in to her seat.  
As he settled in behind the wheel he stared at her fixedly.  
“What’s wrong Stannis?”  
“Nothing’s wrong. I just…. I was so scared I would never see you again. I can’t stop looking at you.”  
“I must look absolutely horrific.”  
“No, you are always beautiful,” he asserted as he reached over and took her hand in his and squeezed it gently. “Beautiful and so strong.”  
“I don’t feel very strong.”  
“I imagine not after what you’ve been through. Let’s get you back to Oberyn’s place and get you cleaned up and rested.”

 

“Then what Stannis?”  
“Then we start our lives together, if you wish it.”   
“Together?” she asked in a small trembling voice.  
“I want you in my life,” he asserted firmly.  
“But –” Sansa started, but Stannis hushed her with a feather light touch to her cheek with one hand.  
“I know it’s not going to be easy and I don’t know what the future will hold. We still have a lot to sort out, a lot of things to learn about ourselves and each other and I know you’ll need time. I don’t want you to do anything you’re not ready for. I’ll wait as long as it takes. If you want me in your life too, then I’m here for you. Always.”  
Sansa clapped her hand to her mouth and sobbed.  
“Really? You still want to be with me? Even after everything that I’ve done? Everything that’s happened?”

 

Stannis reached over and put his hand behind Sansa’s head bringing her face closer to his and gazing at her earnestly.  
“Nothing you’ve done, nothing that has happened could possibly make me love you any less. Please say ‘yes’. Please tell me you want me too.”  
“Yes,” she whispered in a small voice. “I don’t want you to walk out of my life. I love you too. But I’m scared, Stannis.”  
“I am too sweetheart but together we can do it. One day at a time. I know we can.”  
He gazed at her with such intense longing that a light blush suffused her cheeks.  
“Gods, I’ve missed that,” he said fondly, stroking his thumb across one cheek. “Thankfully from now on I never have to miss another one of these beautiful blushes. They’re all mine,” he stated smugly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Phew! Talk about emotional overload. Now we move into Epilogue territory. Next up a POV from everyone’s favourite sidekick.


	53. Chapter 53

“What time will she be here Davos?” Marya asked anxiously.  
Davos believed that it was perhaps the fifth time she had asked him that question in the last couple of hours. He indulged her because he knew she was worried about all of the arrangements for Sansa’s homecoming being in place before the young woman arrived. Sansa and Marya had become very close. He had told his wife everything that had happened in Dorne and all of the traumas from Sansa’s past as he was not prepared to keep such a huge secret from his life partner and he knew she could be trusted. Besides, she could only really help Sansa if she was in full possession of the truth. Marya was in tears for an entire day as she contemplated the pain and fear that the young woman had endured in her life and then had steeled herself, determined to provide Sansa with the support she would need.

 

When they had returned from Dorne, Stannis had not wanted Sansa to feel stressed or pressured in any way. Stannis suggested that Sansa stay with them for a time so that she would have the counsel of another woman in Marya while little Stannis would stay with Stannis, ostensibly as a holiday for the small boy. Davos knew that Stannis desperately wanted to be with Sansa; he couldn’t have been prouder of his friend for seeing to her emotional wellbeing above his own needs. The next two weeks were terribly difficult for everyone with Sansa being continually assaulted by disturbing dreams and memories of her past abuse; she was also completely traumatised by her role in the slaughter of Baelish and the violent bloody deaths of the Cleganes. 

 

Sansa woke the household with her terrified screams on a nightly basis. Many a time she would end up in either Marya’s or his own arms, clinging to them as though her life depended on it. In the end she feared sleeping altogether, spending many hours in the lounge room late at night, absently flicking between television channels in a desperate attempt to stave off her crushing fatigue. Her nerves were so on edge that she would jump at the slightest noise or unexpected movement. Davos was forced to hide all of the kitchen knives in drawers as the sight of them would completely paralyse the young woman with fear. On several occasions Marya had found her curled up on the floor of her bedroom humming a lullaby as tears streaked from her eyes, completely oblivious to the world around her. Sansa had lost a lot of weight in a short time and her expression was always haunted, the usual bright spark of her eyes dulled. It destroyed Davos every time Stannis visited to spend time with Sansa, so deep was the hopeless grief in his friend’s eyes as he witnessed his love’s continued suffering and her obvious deterioration.

 

It was clear that despite Marya’s concerted efforts and after numerous appointments with a local clinic, they were slowly losing Sansa to her inner torment and she was in dire need of more intensive professional help. Stannis had done hours of research poring through realms of testimonials, had visited countless services and eventually found an excellent facility for her in Pentos. It would mean that he would need to travel by plane to see her every week and stay the entire weekend to spend as much time with her as possible but if it improved her wellbeing it would be worth it. Sansa had cried for days at the thought of them being separated but understood the necessity of more pervasive therapy if she was to conquer the demons that still lurked in her mind. It broke Davos’s and Marya’s hearts when the time came to say goodbye as Sansa boarded the plane with Stannis; no one knew how long she would be gone, or even if she would be the same woman they had known and loved when she returned.

 

One of the most difficult challenges for everybody was informing Stannis’s family of Sansa’s real identity and the details of her condition. Of course they omitted all of the more recent details about the events of Dorne out of necessity, but divulged her past abuse as a child and her rapes as the reason for her need for prolonged intensive treatment which she had not received when the offences had originally occurred. To say they were shocked was a complete understatement and there was some consternation over her having concealed her true identity in the first instance. They fretted over Stannis’s involvement with a woman who was so obviously damaged and whether the whole relationship could survive the obstacles that lay before them. However they slowly came to understand the extent of Sansa’s fear and trauma that had forced her to hide her past, her incredible fortitude in the face of such suffering and the love that she and Stannis had for each other that grew day by day. Eventually they supported the relationship unreservedly. 

 

From all accounts Sansa’s extended stay at the Sanitarium with its holistic approach to psychiatric health, state of the art facilities and expert staff had been very beneficial. After his last visit Stannis reported that while she still suffered from troubling flashbacks and nightmares, the frequency of them had diminished and the after effects were less intense. She no longer required medication and had been given other strategies for dealing with their impact which had helped her to cope emotionally. Her physical condition had improved and she had begun to smile and laugh again, much to Stannis’s delight. She had made many small but discernible steps towards recovery and had even begun to talk about and plan her long term future, including continuing her degree in marketing that she had been forced to abandon after her abuse by Ramsay. 

 

One night while Sansa was on speaker phone talking to himself and Marya, she brought up the subject of her future wedding.  
“I’ve been stuck in this place for nearly seven months. It’s been two weeks since I found out that they were intending to release me and since Stannis proposed to me out in the Sanitarium gardens. I really need to get out of here,” she grumbled.  
“You’ll be out very soon and then you can both be together and plan the most beautiful wedding imaginable. Stannis will spoil you rotten. You can ask him for anything and he will give it to you,” Marya gushed.  
“I know, but all I want is him,” she sighed.  
“Have you thought about what sort of ceremony you want?”  
“Since I was a little girl I dreamed of a traditional religious ceremony in a Godswood and a huge reception with all the trappings but all of that doesn’t really mean anything to me anymore. And besides the media would be all over it. I just want so badly to be Stannis’s wife. I love that wonderful man so much. I don’t care how it happens now, I just don’t want to wait a day longer.”

 

Davos knew that the feeling was entirely mutual. Stannis had been moping around for so long it had driven him to distraction. It was a blessed relief when his friend had finally received word that Sansa’s latest psychiatric assessment had declared her well enough to soon return home. She still had one more series of workshops to attend before she left and would continue with counselling sessions at mental health facility back in King’s Landing that had been highly recommended by the Sanitarium to ensure her adjustment to the outside world went smoothly. She would also need to return to the facility periodically for catch-up sessions to monitor her progress. Despite the improvement in her condition, there were still lingering concerns though, as Stannis and he had discussed on a number of occasions.

 

“She needs to talk about her experiences in order to heal but she knows she can never divulge her involvement in Baelish’s death. She can never speak of her time in Dorne at all. I’m really worried what that might do to her in the long term. Killing a man the brutal way she did and seeing another two die in front of her, one of whom she cared for very much, is a terrible thing Davos, and she is a sensitive young woman who has been through so much trauma in her life. I just don’t know how she will continue to deal with the reality of having murdered someone even though that cock sucking bastard deserved everything he got.”  
“It is a concern, Stannis, I can’t lie. She did not react well when we told her about the cover up. If anyone finds out that we burned down that villa we are all going to be up shit creek.”

 

“Sansa was more upset about the fact that Sandor Clegane was left there and that he was buried by the state because he had no family living. She wanted so much to bury him herself and say goodbye properly but it just wasn’t possible. One of the first things she wants to do when she is released is to go and visit his grave and lay a headstone for him. The biggest irony to come out of all of this is that Sansa intends to use every single penny she inherited from Baelish’s estate to establish a charitable foundation in Clegane’s name.”  
“About time Littlefinger did something worthwhile for someone else, even if it is completely unintentional and from the grave,” Davos commented.  
“I hope he’s got wind of it and is rolling in his fucking grave,” Stannis growled.

 

Davos scratched his chin in contemplation.  
“It was very lucky that the Cleganes’ bodies were some way distant from the epicentre of the blaze and not affected by the fire. Their bodies being there in the state they were in really muddied the waters as to how Baelish died. His body was too badly burnt so while enough material survived so they could identify him from DNA they will never be able to determine exactly how he met his end and what actually transpired between those three. They’ve stopped investigating and the verdict is inconclusive; Oberyn’s little visits to the coroner’s office, the arson squad and the police department’s investigative unit didn’t hurt matters either.”  
“Everyone in Dorne has their price, as we know,” Stannis commented wryly.  
“How is our Dornish Casanova anyway?” Davos asked.  
Stannis harrumphed.  
“Last time I spoke to him he was anchored somewhere in the middle of the Sea of Dorne on a luxury yacht with ‘three nubile sea nymphs’: his description not mine.”  
Davos shook his head and chuckled, “Fucking typical. Always lands on his feet that lucky son of a bitch.”

 

“Well, I just pray that this is the end of that whole mess and when Sansa gets the all-clear from the Sanitarium we can get on with our lives,” Stannis commented.  
“Look, we’ll deal with it one day at a time and it will be okay, of course, unless Sansa is just not able to keep the secret.”  
“She is strong Davos. I have faith in her. And I will be there to watch over her, help her in any way I can.”  
“You know that goes for me and Marya too.”  
“Thank you my friend. You don’t know how much that means to me,” Stannis replied as he clapped Davos on the back and shot him one of his biggest smiles.  
“I have a fair idea Stannis.”  
“I would die for that beautiful woman. In an instant. Her happiness is the only thing that matters to me. I will spend the rest of my life making up for all the lousy things that have happened to her in the past. I know I can’t make her forget but it won’t stop me from trying. Until there’s no breath left in my body.”

 

“Well, well, well,” Davos smirked.  
Stannis scowled and glared at him.  
“What?”  
“Is this the new improved Stannis Baratheon? In touch with his feminine side. The feels, the feels,” he teased, as he made a fluttering gesture with his hands over his heart.  
“Davos,” Stannis replied in a tone of warning.  
“Next you’ll be baking cakes and organising Tupperware parties.”  
“Careful.”  
“A bit of lippy, a nice little flippy skirt.”  
He laughed out loud at the mental image of Stannis’s masculine form squeezed into a tiny skirt, all muscle and sinew and hairy legs. He did a little twirl, held his hands out to his sides as though holding out an imaginary skirt, pursed his lips and blew Stannis a kiss.  
“That’s it Seaworth. I’m going to fucking kill you.”  
“Have to catch me first,” he sniggered as he sprinted to the front door. He giggled like a loon as he jumped into his car, Stannis hot on his heels. He flipped the bird and grinned widely as he honked the horn and drove rather erratically down the driveway, the reflection of Stannis snarling and waving a fist at him looming large in his rear view mirror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of serious intel and a whole lot of silliness at the end to lighten the mood, as only the indomitable Davos can manage. Next up a two part POV from Stannis


	54. Chapter 54

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *DENTAL HYGIENE ALERT*  
> Be warned. If you have dodgy teeth or wish to avoid developing same, please approach the following chapters with caution. You may need to seek the professional help of a dental hygienist after consuming the sugary fluff in these chapters. I take no responsibility for any damage caused. And after the hell I have put our two lovebirds through, I make no apology either :)

Stannis grabbed the suitcases from the boot of the car as Sansa waited by the front door.  
“I’m not feeble you know. Are you sure you don’t want a hand?”  
“Yep, got it,” he grunted. “What in the seven Hells have you got in these bags woman? I’m going to have to build an extension to fit all your stuff in the house.”  
“I’m so glad I didn’t get involved with someone who is prone to exaggeration,” she replied rolling her eyes to the heavens.  
Stannis opened the door, placed the bags inside and suddenly turned to scoop her into his arms. She shrieked in surprise and giggled. She had lost weight due to the strictly regulated meals and exercise regime in the Sanitarium and felt much too light. He reminded himself to reserve the best table at Renly’s restaurant for the next week and treat her to all the most indulgent dishes on the menu. 

 

“What are you doing, silly?” she laughed.  
“Carrying you across the threshold as is customary in such a context,” he replied.  
“But we’re not even married yet,” she reminded him.  
“In my heart we are,” he said sincerely as he stared intently at her.  
“Oh Stannis,” she whispered and he could see the start of tears in her eyes.  
“Well, that’s just lovely. The thought of marrying me is so hideous to you that you are on the verge of weeping,” he japed.  
“You are such an idiot,” she sniffled. “But you’re my idiot. Kiss me.”  
Stannis complied willingly, relishing the soft warm press of her lips, the gentle swipe of her tongue. She hummed contentedly and smiled against his lips.

 

Stannis stepped inside, depositing Sansa on the marble tile floor of the foyer.  
“Wow! This is amazing. What a beautiful house. I mean it was impressive from the outside but this is just…wow!” she said as she twirled around in excitement.  
“You really like it? If you wish for something different or want to put your own personal touches on it then you must make whatever improvements you see fit or we can buy a new house together. I want you to be happy in your new home.”  
“We could live in a tent for all I care. As long as I’m with you it’s my home.”  
Stannis stroked her hair and kissed her again quickly.  
“Come on, come through to the reception room.”

 

As Sansa entered the room, she gasped and nearly fell over in shock.  
“Stannis, what is all of this?” she exclaimed.  
The whole room was decorated with white floral arrangements and topiaries. A large white rose covered arbour had been erected in the centre of the space. Underneath it stood Renly, to the side a smiling Marya and Davos, beside them Loras holding a camera, a very excited little Stannis with two gold rings on a black ring cushion, pretty little Shireen with a basket of white rose petals and a positively beaming Robert. All were formally attired.

 

Sansa looked at them all in turn and then faced Stannis with tears in her eyes.  
“You did all this for me?”  
“If you don’t like it then we can have a proper wedding with all the bells and whistles later. Renly is a marriage celebrant so I just thought…”  
“No! You beautiful man. And you guys, thank you. This is perfect. I can’t believe it,” she cried as she crushed him to her so hard that the breath wooshed from him and he thought he heard a rib crack.  
“Stan, you’ve made your wife cry already. That’s not a very good start,” Robert bellowed with a wide grin.  
“He’s right Sansa, come on now. Dry the tears. I have another surprise for you. Come with me.”

 

He led her down a long hallway and opened the door to one of the bedrooms.  
“Gilly! Jeyne! What on earth? What are you guys doing here?” she squealed as she launched herself at her friends who hugged her and laughed excitedly.  
“We’re here as your bridesmaids to help you get ready,” Gilly explained.  
“Stannis how did you get their phone numbers?” Sansa asked.  
Stannis averted his gaze.  
“I might have stolen them off your phone the last time I visited you at the Sanitarium,” he admitted sheepishly.  
“That was very naughty of you Stannis Baratheon, but under the circumstances I guess I can forgive you.”

 

All of sudden Sansa’s face dropped as she regarded the beautiful plum coloured floor length chiffon bridesmaid dresses her friends were wearing, looking down at her drab faded jeans and t-shirt in dismay.  
“In the walk-in robe, honey,” Stannis said, detecting her change in mood.  
Sansa disappeared into the wardrobe. Seconds later they all heard the sound of a garment bag being unzipped, a sharp intake of breath and a scream. But it was a joyful scream. She reappeared with her white mermaid style jewelled tulle and lace illusion neck wedding dress clutched tightly to her chest.  
“Stannis, what did you do? How? This is almost the same as my dream dress!”  
Stannis smiled smugly.  
“You sent the website link to the dress to Marya for her to take a look at a little while ago. We decided to contact the designer but unfortunately all of his gowns are bespoke and one-off so we couldn’t get you exactly the same one. After some haggling the designer agreed to some minor modifications on the original design. The measurements are based on some of your clothes that I was able to get hold of. I hope it will suffice.”  
“Suffice!?” she exclaimed. “It’s perfect. I absolutely love it. I love you!” she cried as she held the gown up in front of her in awe.  
“If I’d known that buying you a dress would have garnered such an ardent response from you I would have done it a lot sooner.” 

 

Stannis moved to the bed and reached for a gift bag handing it to Sansa.  
“What’s this, Stannis?” she smiled.  
She reached inside the bag extracting a white antique lace veil.  
“My mother wore it when she married my father, and my grandmother wore it before her. It would honour me if you would wear it today.”  
Sansa wiped at a tear and gazed at him.  
“Oh Stannis, of course I’ll wear it. Thank you. It’s beautiful.”  
“And it’s something old and borrowed,” Gilly beamed.  
“We’ve got the ‘blue’ covered,” Jeyne said with a smirk as she twirled a blue lace garter in her fingers.  
Sansa blushed.  
“There are some ‘new’ white satin shoes in the wardrobe too in the bright red box,” Stannis explained.  
Sansa squealed again and ran back into the robe to find the shoes. Judging by the loud gasp that emanated from within Stannis concluded that Marya had chosen well. 

 

“Now, ladies I will leave you to it. Don’t forget we have some very impatient and excited guests waiting down the hallway.”  
“Don’t worry Stannis,” replied Jeyne. “We’ll make her look like a beautiful bride in no time.”  
“She already does, so your job will be very undemanding,” he winked at her as he left the room.  
He couldn’t suppress a smug smile and he walked a little taller when he heard some giggling and a hushed “Oh my Gods, he is gorgeous,” through the door as he walked away from the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up Part two of Stannis’s POV and more sugary goodness.  
> *****Update: Chapter 55 is now up guys. I decided to post two chapters today.


	55. Chapter 55

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve decided to post a second chapter today, dedicated to those readers in the US who might need a bit of cheering up. We might not be allies for much longer but we can still be friends, yes? <3 I hope you enjoy.

Stannis wasn’t sure how long he had been waiting; it felt like an eternity. Suddenly Loras queued the music, the air filling with the sweet notes of Marya’s crystal clear singing voice.

 

I was down my dreams were wearing thin  
When you're lost where do you begin  
My heart always seemed to drift from day to day  
Looking for the love that never came my way

Then you smiled and I reached out to you  
I could tell you were lonely too  
One look then it all began for you and me  
The moment that we touched I knew that there would be

 

Two less lonely people in the world  
And it's gonna be fine  
Out of all the people in the world  
I just can't believe you're mine  
In my life where everything was wrong  
Something finally went right  
Now there's two less lonely people  
In the world tonight

Just to think what I might have missed  
Looking back how did I exist  
I dreamed, still I never thought I'd come this far  
But miracles come true, I know 'cause here we are

Two less lonely people in the world  
And it's gonna be fine  
Out of all the people in the world  
I just can't believe you're mine  
In my life where everything was wrong  
Something finally went right  
Now there's two less lonely people  
In the world tonight

Tonight I fell in love with you  
And all the things I never knew  
Seemed to come to me somehow  
Baby, love is here and now there's

Two less lonely people in the world  
And it's gonna be fine  
Out of all the people in the world  
I just can't believe you're mine  
In my life where everything was wrong  
Something finally went right  
Now there's two less lonely people  
In the world tonight *

 

First, Sansa’s two pretty bridesmaids walked slowly towards the arbour, blushing and smiling. He then spied his Godson little Stannis holding the wedding rings in front of him with a serious look of concentration on his face. Following close behind was his beautiful little daughter smiling shyly as she scattered the rose petals all around. Then he saw her. She was almost preternaturally beautiful as she made her way into the room on the arm of a proud and moved Davos, her Stephanotis bouquet grasped in her two slender hands in front of her. Stannis heard a gasp from Loras and Renly while Robert grumbled out “my word” several times in succession. For his own part he tried very hard to stop his chin from hitting the ground but he wasn’t entirely successful in the attempt. 

 

Sansa positively glowed. Her hair was caught up in an elaborate chignon with soft curls sweeping down at the sides of her face; the dress highlighted the perfect snow white skin of her long slender neck, her shoulders and her long graceful arms. He was relieved to note that the dress fit her as though it was painted on to her skin, hugging her curves perfectly. As she approached he could not help but notice the appraising look she returned to him with eyes that glimmered with unshed tears. He tugged nervously at the sleeves of his steel grey three piece morning suit. He knew he should say something about how stunning she looked but he had been quite literally struck dumb. 

 

As Davos handed her over to him Sansa leaned in close and whispered in his ear.  
“You look incredibly handsome, Stannis.”  
Suddenly the room seemed to get very hot.  
“Ummm. Thank you. You too. I mean, you’re…. spectacular, perfect,” he mumbled out. It didn’t even come close to what he really thought. He could not find the right words. Luckily Sansa’s smile broadened so it would appear that his pathetic attempt at a compliment had by some miracle passed muster.

 

As Renly began his opening speech Stannis glanced at Sansa and marvelled at how completely his life had turned around and how utterly his happiness now relied on the incredible woman who stood next to him. A woman he knew he could entrust his heart to without reservation. She must have sensed his scrutiny as her eyes looked up to meet his and in that one look he knew that she felt exactly the same way about him. 

 

He squeezed her hand and in a sheer panic realised that he had completely forgotten the vows that he had spent the last two weeks writing and memorising.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * “Two Less Lonely People In The World”  
> Song and Lyrics, Air Supply, 1982
> 
> And in case you’re not familiar with the song or would just like to hear it in conjunction with the story, here is a YouTube link.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lRvrbDVYdAA 
> 
> Next up a few chapters with Sansa’s POV.


	56. Chapter 56

“Your vows to me were beautiful Stannis,” Sansa assured him as they drove to an undisclosed destination a little while later after they had said their farewells to family and friends. Her husband had steadfastly refused to divulge where they were headed despite her best attempts to wear him down.  
“I couldn’t remember a blasted word of what I had prepared,” he grunted in frustration.  
“Oh sweetie, it doesn’t matter. What you said to me came straight from the heart. That is what I really wanted to hear and it’s what matters most.”  
“Well, you did not even have time to prepare and yet your vows were perfection,” he replied rather sulkily.  
“If they were then it was because I was speaking the truth. I want to spend the rest of my life showing you how much you mean to me, how much I love you. That is the truth and when you speak true, it’s not hard to find the right words.”  
Stannis did not reply but grasped her left hand in his and brought it to his lips kissing the gold band on her finger.

 

“And, I can’t thank you enough for this beautiful wedding. This has truly been the most amazing day of my life. But…”  
Stannis glanced at her with a frown.  
“A ‘but’? Did I forget something?”  
“Yep.”  
“Damn it,” he said, scratching his head in perplexity. “What was it?”  
“No confetti and no ‘Just Married’ painted on the car and tin cans tied to the bumper.”  
Stannis huffed in response.  
“Confetti makes an infernal mess everywhere and tin cans are a noise disturbance we can all do without. And no paint gets on to my Bentley. Ever. One has to draw the line somewhere and that is most definitely where I draw it.”  
Sansa laughed loudly.  
“Oh Stannis. Promise me that you won’t ever change,” she giggled.  
“Careful wife or I will have to put you over my knee and give you a spanking.”  
“Promises, promises,” she replied.

 

As they drove Sansa realised that they were headed in the direction of the beach. The sun was just beginning to set and with growing excitement she realised what Stannis may have planned.  
“Stannis, are we....?”  
“Going to the place where I tasted champagne from your lips.”  
Sansa bounced up and down in her seat and clapped her hands together squealing excitedly.  
“You’re taking me to the beach? Our beach? Where we….”  
Sansa started to blush as she recalled their first and only lovemaking session. It seemed so very long ago.  
Stannis looked over at her and smiled broadly. She loved that smile.   
“I’m going to make you blush much more than that before this night is through,” he said with a mischievous glint in his eye.   
She looked out the side window suddenly finding the passing scenery outside exceedingly interesting as she willed her pink cheeks to cool down.

 

Stannis pulled up in a parking spot at the beachfront carpark and opened the door for her.   
“Wait Stannis. I’ll have to take these heels off first,” she said as she pulled her shoes off and placed them on the floor of the car. Stannis followed suit with his dress shoes.  
As they made their way along the beach arm in arm Sansa could start to discern the details of the arrangements Stannis had made off in the distance at the cove.  
“Stannis! What did you do?” she exclaimed as they walked closer.  
A table dressed in white linen. Two high backed chairs with white linen covers tied with gold sashes. Gold cutlery, Waterford crystal champagne flutes and two ornately etched gold food cloches. There were a couple of bottles of champagne in ice buckets, the names of which were unfamiliar to her but she had no doubt that Stannis had spared no expense. 

 

Some seven yards behind the table was a white canvas bell tent but the front entry flaps were closed so she could not see inside.  
“Oh my God. What’s in there?” she gasped as she started to make a bee line for the tent. Stannis caught her gently by the arm.  
“Not so fast, you. That’s another surprise for later.”  
Sansa made an annoyed noise in the back of her throat much to Stannis’s amusement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the shortish chapter. Next, a much longer one for you. The continuation of the wedding night from Sansa’s POV: a very important conversation, and a special guest appearance.


	57. Chapter 57

Suddenly the flaps of the tent swished open and closed but as much as Sansa strained to see inside, the motion was too swift and while she spied a flash of colour she could not discern any concrete details of the interior. She huffed in frustration. So focussed had she been on trying to catch a glimpse of the inside of the tent that she gasped in excitement when she finally registered the identity of the man who had emerged, strolling slowly towards them with a huge grin plastered from ear to ear.  
“Oberyn!” she squealed, as she hurtled towards him and flung her arms around him. “It’s so good to see you. I’ve missed you so much.”  
Oberyn embraced her and winked at Stannis over Sansa’s shoulder before holding her out at arm’s length, studying her with a slightly lascivious glint in his deep brown eyes.

 

“Such a lovely greeting. Now, how could I possibly resist an opportunity to steal you away from your beloved, even if it is only for a moment? You are truly a vision, my dear. Magnificent and without equal. Are you sure, quite sure you have made the right decision? My yacht is anchored at Blackwater Bay as we speak; you have only to say the word.”  
Sansa blushed and giggled, turning to face Stannis whose scowl had deepened appreciably.  
“I’m very sure Oberyn, but thank you for the offer,” Sansa laughed. “I have absolutely everything I could ever want right here.”  
Sansa could not help but notice that Stannis sat a little taller in his chair and with a rather superior expression on his face after that remark. She thought it was extremely cute.

 

“Ah. Such a great pity for me,” Oberyn lamented with a loud exaggerated sigh.  
“Stannis my friend. I can honestly say for the first time ever, I truly envy you. You must look after this rare jewel, yes? Otherwise you will have me to answer to,” he asserted with a slightly menacing look and tone that Sansa was not entirely sure was feigned.  
Stannis grunted but otherwise made no response.  
“And if you should ever change your mind, my sweet, you know how to reach me,” he added, smirking at Sansa.

 

Before Stannis could react Sansa stood on her toes and reached up to kiss Oberyn chastely on the cheek. Rather uncharacteristically the man appeared somewhat stunned and abashed. Clearing his throat awkwardly he rallied, striding with his usual native confidence towards the table and grabbing one of the champagne bottles.  
“Allow me to be of service before I take my leave.”  
With a theatrical flourish he reached into his long black fitted coat and unsheathed an ornate mother of pearl and jewel encrusted curved blade dagger. He held the bottle aloft and slashed the cork dramatically from the neck. A spray of champagne arced gracefully into the air. He replaced the bottle in the ice bucket, sheathed the dagger, and smirked smugly at Stannis who rolled his eyeballs to the heavens and mumbled what sounded suspiciously like ‘for fuck’s sake’ under his breath. Sansa, on the other hand, thought it was all rather marvellous and so typically Oberyn; she let out a little squeak of delight and jumped up and down on the spot clapping her hands together.  
“If there is anything else I can do for you before I depart?”  
Oberyn winked at Sansa and flashed her a broad and rather suggestive smile.

 

Abruptly, Stannis stood from his chair and for a split second Sansa thought he might clock the Dornishman one on the jaw or at the very least give him a very big piece of his mind, but instead he walked over and embraced him with one arm, clapping him soundly on the back, his eyes full of emotion. When Stannis spoke she detected a slight tremble in his voice.  
“Oberyn, I can never thank you enough for what you did for Sansa and what you did for me. You are the reason we’re sitting here together tonight. If it wasn’t for you –”  
“Please Stannis, do not think upon it anymore and upset yourself needlessly about things that did not happen. And you most certainly must not thank me,” he interrupted softly. “Thanks are not needed between friends. But I will expect an invitation to every name day celebration of your future progeny or I shall take it as an insult against my person.”  
Stannis harrumphed loudly and shook Oberyn’s hand firmly as though sealing a pact.

 

“Is everything in order?” Stannis asked the man.  
“Yes, my friend. Exactly as you instructed.”  
“Did you have any difficulties? There was a bit to arrange.”  
“Not at all,” Oberyn replied. “I had competent assistance.”  
This only served to stoke Sansa’s curiosity further about the contents of the tent. The suspense was killing her.  
Oberyn clapped his hands three times sharply. Some feminine giggling erupted from inside the tent before three extremely attractive and exotic dark haired young women emerged. They sashayed towards Stannis who stood frozen to the spot, his eyes widened, his mouth slightly agape. Sansa tried very hard to suppress a laugh as they slowly circled him like hungry panthers sizing up their prey. They gradually tightened their orbit and moved closer, stroking his arms and back lightly with their fingers and humming seductively close to his ear before moving with generous sways of their hips towards Oberyn, who surveyed the interaction with a flashy grin. Stannis’s cheeks were as red as beetroots as he awkwardly adjusted the collar of his dress shirt and jacket.  
“Come, my lovelies. Let us leave our two lovebirds to their wedding feast and…..whatever may come after,” he smiled conspiratorially while nodding his head towards the tent.  
“Good evening Mr Baratheon, Mrs Baratheon, and congratulations on your marriage, on behalf of the Martells of Dorne,” he declared with a deep bow. 

 

Once Oberyn and his entourage had departed Stannis and Sansa resumed their seats.  
“You didn’t tell me you organised free cabaret,” Sansa giggled.  
“Oberyn fucking Martell,” he grunted. “Can’t ever do anything like a normal person. Always such a bloody grandstander.”  
“Oh come on,” she replied. “You know you love it. He’s wonderful.”  
“Hmph. Perhaps if he is so ‘wonderful’, you would rather that I called him back here then.” Stannis grumped.  
“Never. He can’t hold a candle to you. But he is a very good man at heart and a good friend.”  
“You’re right he is. You know, to be truthful, in the past I never had much time for him. He always seemed like such a shallow minded peacock. He has always had business acumen; there is no taking that away from him. But he can never just do things by the book. He always has to be showy and flashy and bugger me, he makes damned sure he always gets the better end of every deal. But in a lot of ways, I’ve been very wrong about him. There is a lot of depth to that man; much more than meets the eye. The way he took complete control in Dorne and the personal risks he took for both of us, I can never repay him.”  
“Yes you can Stannis. You can repay him by being his friend. For all his teasing, underneath it all, I can tell he really respects and cares about you. You’re not just a work colleague to him anymore.”  
“Well, to my eternal surprise, the feeling is mutual,” he admitted. “Even though he still irritates the living crap out of me.”  
Sansa smiled fondly at Stannis’s entirely characteristic macho awkwardness in freely admitting affection for another man and grasped his hand giving it a gentle squeeze. 

 

“Enough of Oberyn Martell. I think he has taken up quite enough of our time. This is about us after all,” Stannis declared before picking up his champagne flute and raising it towards her.  
“To my beautiful, smart, adorable wife who I love with all of my heart. Tonight is the first night of the rest of our lives together. I want this night to be one that we will never forget but only the first of many, many more that we will share together as husband and wife.”  
He clinked his glass against hers and they both took a sip. Sansa felt her bottom lip trembling and a tear trickle down her cheek as she placed the glass down on the table.  
Stannis frowned in concern.  
“What’s wrong Sansa? Did I upset you? Tell me.”  
“No. You didn’t upset me. I’m so happy but it all seems so unreal. I mean after everything that has happened I still find it hard to accept that I’m allowed to be happy, you know? I feel like something is going to come along like it always does and spoil it for me. That I will be left all alone as I’ve always been in the past. And I miss Sandor and my family. They all should have been here to see me become a bride,” she added sadly. 

 

“I know you miss them honey. I’m sorry,” Stannis replied as he gently stroked his fingers across the knuckles of her hand.  
“But you have me now and the Seaworths and my family; they’re your family now too. We are all here for you. You are allowed to be happy. You deserve to be happy. Believe it.”  
She grabbed his hand and squeezed it tight.  
“You’re right. I do appreciate and love all of you very much. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin everything. You’ve gone to so much trouble to make this special for me. Thank you.”  
“You haven’t ruined anything. And I do not require your thanks Mrs Baratheon. You are my wife and you should have every expectation that I would treat you as you deserve to be treated. Now, eat before you waste away in front of me,” he commanded as he whipped the cloches off the food with a flourish.

 

He had arranged a platter piled high with fresh local seafood and another with imported cured meats, cheeses, fresh figs and a variety of breads and condiments. Sansa’s mouth literally watered as she scanned the food.  
“I hope this improves on the culinary delight that is greasy fish and chips,” he smirked as he noticed her impressed and frankly greedy expression.  
“Don’t look so smug,” she admonished, secretly thinking he was being completely adorable right now.  
“You know full well that it puts my effort to shame. However one thing does kind of disappoint me.”  
“Oh?” he replied, one eyebrow quirking up in surprise and a hint of disappointment.  
“Well,” she said coquettishly, “the champagne flutes. Are they completely necessary? I rather liked what my sloppy effort with the bottle led to last time.”  
Stannis laughed heartily and shook his head.  
“You were so shy when we first met. What happened?”  
“Are you complaining?” she asked.  
“Is that a serious question?”

 

Sansa picked up a fig from the platter and took a bite from it before placing it on the plate in front of her.  
“Stannis there is something I want to talk to you about.”  
“Oh, oh. That sounds ominous, love,” Stannis commented with a slight frown as he put down the lobster tail that he had selected from the seafood platter.  
“No, it’s nothing bad,” Sansa assured him. “It’s about Shireen.”  
“What about Shireen?”  
“We haven’t really discussed it and I don’t know if it is what you want or what she wants.”  
“Tell me what’s on your mind honey,” he prompted as he took her hand in his.

 

“I want us to talk to Selyse. I want to see if we can have Shireen live with us at least some of the time. I mean she loves her mother and needs her but it’s not right that you never get to see her. She needs her daddy too – it really hurts me when I see how much the two of you miss each other.”  
Stannis sighed loudly.  
“The one and only time the two of you were in a room together Selyse treated you like shit, and she’s said some very unkind things about the two of us since. Are you sure you want to take her on? She’s extremely jealous of you and of us and it’s highly unlikely she’ll agree to anything. She kicked up one hell of a fuss every time I brought Shireen with me to Pentos to see you. When she first heard about the wedding I swear her head swivelled 360 degrees on her neck and she nearly combusted. I had a bugger of a time getting her to agree to Shireen attending. If I hadn’t had Marya with me as my wingman it wouldn’t have happened, I’m certain of it.”

 

“I am completely sure, Stannis. If we can make her see that it’s not really about us and it’s not about her and that it’s ultimately about Shireen’s welfare, it will be worth the aggravation. But if it comes down to it we might have to challenge her in court. Now that we’re married I feel sure that the court will look upon the case favourably and something can be worked out. I really want us to try, but only if Shireen wants it too, of course.”  
“Selyse is likely to fight dirty, Sansa. She’s got the Lannisters in her corner as well. Cersei hasn’t forgotten what happened to her son the night of Robert’s party. The three of them will do anything they can to see the two of us unhappy. I’m worried about you.” Stannis responded.  
“I don’t care what they say or do Stannis. This is more important than a few difficult weeks or months facing down your ex-wife, her flashy lawyers and the Lannisters. Besides we’ve got your brothers and the Seaworths on our side, don’t forget. If you are willing to try, then I’m in,” she stated firmly. 

 

Stannis’s eyes regarded her with a look of such warmth and devotion that she felt tears pricking at her eyes. He brought her fingers to his lips and kissed them gently.  
“Having Shireen with us would mean more to me than you could possibly know. You are so great with her; I couldn’t ask for a better female role model in her life than you.”  
Sansa’s breath hitched as she stared at her husband with wide eyes.  
“You really mean that?” she asked tremulously.  
“Of course I mean it,” he asserted firmly. “You are kind, loving, sensitive, intelligent, loyal and as strong as steel. You are as beautiful on the inside as you are on the outside. What more could anyone ask for in a Stepmom?”  
“Oh Stannis,” was all she could think of to say in response.

 

“And you must know how much that little girl adores you. It was a battle getting her to come back with me from Pentos every time I brought her to see you. So, I guess, what I’m trying to say is that if you want the three of us to become more of a family, then we will see Selyse and we’ll talk to Shireen and do what needs to be done, but only when you’re completely ready and not before.”  
“Well, my only proviso is that I want us to be secure in each other as husband and wife first before we bring her to live with us. We need to be strong together so we can be strong as a family. I love you and Shireen so much. I want you both to be happy and I’ll do anything I can to make it happen.”  
Stannis exhaled loudly and gave her hand a gentle squeeze.  
“I don’t know how it’s possible but I think I love you even more right at this moment than I did before,” he said rather tremulously.  
Sansa blinked away tears that threatened to escape her eyes and squeezed his hand back.  
“Come on, let’s eat. You’ll need your energy later on,” she remarked with a smirk.  
“I’ll hold you to that Mrs Baratheon,” he huffed in amusement.

 

After finishing their meal Sansa started to fidget. Her eyes kept darting again and again to the tent.  
Stannis had obviously noticed that her patience was wearing thin; her curiosity was overwhelming her and he was intending to make maximum mileage out of it.  
“Is something amiss, Sansa?” he asked nonchalantly. “If I didn’t know better I could swear you were growing tired of my company. It is a little early for that, my dear. We’ve only been married a few hours.”  
“Stannis,” she pouted. “You know that’s not the case. You’re being so mean.”  
He harrumphed.  
“I marry you. I wine you, I dine you in style and yet I am mean? That is a rather harsh and unfair assessment of your adoring husband, don’t you think?”  
“No,” she grumped folding her arms in frustration.  
“Alright. Alright. Go on. I can’t deny you anything you little minx,” he chuckled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm. What’s in the tent?  
> Next up, the moment that Stannis and Sansa and the rest of us have been waiting SO, SO LONG for.  
> PS. Thanks to TommyGinger for giving me the inspiration for including Oberyn in this chapter. He took over from an original minor character I had invented that was really nothing of great note. Sorry for bumping you dude, but it is Oberyn f***ing Martell!!!


	58. Chapter 58

Not needing to be told twice, Sansa squeaked, leapt from the chair and sprinted to the front of the tent, impatiently flipping the entry flaps apart and stepping inside. As her eyes took in the splendour of the furnishings an audible gasp escaped her throat. She whirled around in stunned disbelief. Every single inch of the interior had been lined with luxurious fabrics in orange, fuchsia, purple and deep green tones; exotic geometric designs were embroidered into them with gold metallic thread; others were hand sequined or beaded. Ornately patterned rugs covered the floor along with a huge pile of colourful cushions in various sizes and shapes and luxuriant soft furs piled decoratively on one side of the tent. Soft billowing lengths of burgundy chiffon hung from the ceiling, nebulously shrouding the cushions and furs. Arranged around the rest of the perimeter were lit white pillar candles of different girths and heights. They glowed and their flames flickered as they illuminated the interior in a soft glow. Interspersed amongst them were large arrangements of white and purple calla lilies. In the middle of the tent sat an antique carved wooden table piled high with fresh fruits, tempting patisserie and hand crafted chocolates along with several bottles of dessert wine and liqueurs. 

 

As she stood staring, her mouth agape, Stannis snuck up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.   
“Was it worth the wait?”  
She turned around to face him and slapped his arm playfully.  
“Don’t be so disingenuous. You know it’s magnificent. How? How did you do all this?”  
“As much as I would like to I can’t take all the credit. I had some help – from all the family actually. Everyone pitched in to make this happen. Oberyn and his…friends helped with the set up and the Martells gifted the Dornish textiles you see around you.”  
She flung her arms around his neck and crushed his lips to hers, kissing him deeply.  
“I love you. I love all of you guys. This is… I can’t speak.”  
“That would have to be a first,” he smirked.

 

Sansa huffed and moved to the table plucking a big ripe juicy strawberry from the platter, bringing it to her mouth and biting into it seductively. She glanced quickly at Stannis who shot her a lustful look in response.  
“Mmmm. Nice. Would you like to try some?”  
“There’s only one thing I want to taste right now. Turn around.”  
“Pardon?”   
“Turn around, wife. That is an order.”  
Sansa complied with a giggle and immediately felt Stannis’s hands fumbling at the row of small silk covered buttons running down the back of her dress.  
“For fuck’s sake, can they make these things any fiddlier?” he cursed as he struggled to unbutton her.   
“Don’t laugh and squirm Sansa, it makes it more difficult,” he grumbled.  
That only made Sansa laugh even harder. She turned to face him once he had finally finished and slipped the dress off over her hips and down her legs revealing her white satin and lace underwear. Sansa felt her face and chest flush but held Stannis’s penetrating gaze as he started to undress himself. 

 

Once he had removed his underwear she slowly and nervously removed her bra and her panties. Suddenly she felt exposed and vulnerable, her arms moving to cover herself. Stannis gently grasped her arms.  
“No, don’t hide from me. You’re beautiful. Perfect.”  
Her eyes drifted from his broad muscled chest, down his chiselled abs and the V of his pelvis, finally coming to rest on his hardening member. She reached out tentatively and stroked her forefinger over his length before grasping it gently at the base and squeezing. Stannis groaned and cupped her right breast in his hand, brushing slowly over the nipple with his thumb.  
“Stannis,” Sansa whispered as she closed her eyes and clenched her thighs together, her lips parting, her breathing becoming more rapid.

 

Stannis scooped her up in his arms, kissed her deeply and walked towards the pile of cushions and furs depositing her gently upon them; he stood and stared at her hotly before lowering himself onto her, pressing her down into the silky soft textiles beneath her. Sansa moaned as she felt the warm press of his strong chest on her yielding breasts and his already hardened cock pushing firmly against her mound. To her joy she felt nothing but arousal. The fear that she had always felt in the past was a distant memory, supplanted by a feeling of trust and intimacy.  
“Alright?” Stannis whispered against her ear as he softly stroked the side of her face.   
“Mmm. Yes. You feel amazing. Please kiss me husband.”  
“Okay, but tell me if you need me to slow down or stop.”  
“Don’t you dare,” she gasped out. “Now, hurry up and kiss me.”

 

Stannis complied with a grin, pressing his lips firmly against hers, nibbling at her bottom lip and swiping at it with his tongue. Sansa parted her lips for him and allowed Stannis to explore her thoroughly with his tongue. He held her face in his hands and deepened the kiss, tasting her like a man starving while her fingers explored the strong muscles of his shoulders and back.  
“Mmm. Strawberries,” he said as he broke the kiss to catch his breath.   
Stannis moved his attention to her neck, nuzzling her earlobe and sucking at the spot on her neck just underneath. Sansa groaned and undulated her back, pressing her nipples into his chest and her mound against his now fully erect cock. She parted her legs allowing Stannis to press more firmly and directly against her. She whimpered as she felt a warm tingling and a wetness from her arousal. Stannis moaned low in his throat and moved his mouth down to swirl his tongue around one nipple, sucking it into his mouth and grazing it lightly with his teeth. A bolt of pleasure travelled straight down to her core as she bucked up into him trying to chase more sensation, her fingers flying into his hair. As he continued to lathe at her nipple with his tongue he massaged her other breast with one hand, rubbing his thumb over the nipple there; his other hand slid down across her belly to play with the curls between her legs and the soft skin of her inner thigh but he didn’t touch her folds. She squirmed and whimpered as her need for his touch there grew almost unbearable.

 

“Please Stannis,” she begged, after he had teased her for some time.  
He relented and finally rubbed his forefinger gently between her folds. Sansa cried out and dug her fingernails into his shoulders. He inserted the forefinger into her slowly. She gasped and went rigid with the intrusion. It had been so long since their last encounter on the beach and her muscles were so tight. Stannis stilled allowing her to relax and moved his thumb to her clit rubbing it slowly in circular motions. She felt like she was melting under his fingers and she could feel how slick and wet she was becoming for him. Gradually the sweet pleasure of his touch overcame her tension and she started to rock against his hand, moaning and sighing, searching for more.   
He raised his head from her breast to stare wonderingly into her limpid eyes.  
“You are beautiful, so beautiful,” he murmured, as he carefully inserted a second finger and moved both deeper within her. He curled them and massaged her while circling her clit. She began to cry out, to beg him for release. 

 

He withdrew his fingers but kept his thumb on her clit and pressed down firmly on it while his other hand lined his cock up, the head nudging right at her entrance. He sought her eyes once more and she nodded.  
“Yes, yes, I want you so much, please” she panted.  
He pushed slowly inside with a loud low groan.   
“Stannis! Oh Gods,” she gasped out as she wrapped her legs around him bringing him closer.  
With slow even strokes he thrust into her, his breathing ragged, perspiration beading on his brow. Sansa rolled her hips up to meet him thrust for thrust, mewling, her legs shaking as the delicious friction inside her brought her tantalisingly closer to her climax. He increased the pace and with a few more extra deep pushes into her and a vigorous rubbing at her sensitive nub she came apart underneath him screaming out his name and hugging him tight, the walls of her sex clamping and fluttering around his cock. Stannis could take no more. With one more deep thrust he tensed and with a long loud moan, he found his release.  
“Sansa,” he murmured. “My love,” he whispered into her neck as he continued to move gently within her, prolonging the last echoes of their pleasure.

 

As she finally heard her name from his lips in his passion, Sansa started to sob and hugged him closer, never wanting to let him go. He stroked her hair and planted small gentle kisses at the crook of her neck. Withdrawing from her eventually, he rolled onto his side and brought her to face him.   
“Do you have any idea how much I love you Sansa Baratheon?”  
“If I am not very much mistaken, I think you just showed me, husband.”  
“You think?”  
“Mmm,” she hummed as she stroked her fingers through the hair at his temples.   
“But as amazing as that was, I might need some further demonstration before I am completely sure,” she smirked.  
“It is just as well that I am a persistent and stubborn man then,” he smiled as he planted another kiss on her earlobe.  
Sansa giggled, threw a leg over him and drew him closer. 

 

They stayed like that for some time, patiently and thoroughly exploring each other with fingers and open mouthed kisses, their limbs entangled until passion overtook them once again. Afterwards as they lay spooning in a state of boneless bliss Sansa felt herself drifting off to the sound of waves crashing on rocks and the sea breeze fluttering the fabric of the tent. Her man’s strong arms were wrapped tightly around her; his soothing voice whispered his love in her ear. Softly and gently and ever so slowly she eased into quiet dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have it. I've never been a fan of camping but after that I could be persuaded! It was a VERY long wait but hopefully it was worth it.
> 
> One more chapter to go. A nice little surprise for everyone. Can you guess what it is?


	59. Chapter 59

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had originally intended to finish the story with the previous chapter but something seemed like it was still missing. This little scenario came to me and I thought it would tie everything up and be a nice gift for fans of a certain character who was hard done by in this fic. I hope you enjoy it.

“It’s good to see you, little bird.”  
“You too Sandor, I’ve missed you.”  
He sat on the patch of soft green grass with his back against the oak tree, his fingers playing with a frayed pink length of ribbon as he regarded her with a warm expression. His long sleeved shirt, trousers and shoes glowed pristine white in the dappled shade of the tree. As Sansa neared, her jaw dropped as she examined his features more closely.  
“Sandor, your face!” she gasped out.  
He chuckled. “It seems the gods can be merciful after all. Almost makes me wish I had put more faith in all that claptrap when I was alive.”  
She sat by him and pushed the jet black hair from the right side of his face with one hand revealing his perfectly smooth skin underneath. She trailed her fingers lightly across his cheek in wonder and leaned in to give him a small kiss there.  
“You’re really handsome,” she smiled.  
“Let’s not get too carried away,” he chuckled.  
“I wish you didn’t have to go. I miss having my friend around.”  
“Me too little bird,” he replied as his eyes misted over.

 

“I’ve been married for a year and a half now.”  
“I know.”  
“Do you know about this too?” she asked as she took hold of his hand and held his palm against her slightly rounded tummy.  
His now well-formed lips curved effortlessly into a joyful smile that lit up his whole face; his deep brown eyes sparkled.   
“How? When?” he asked.  
“How?” she said with a giggle. “In the usual fashion. As to the ‘when’, he or she was conceived sixteen weeks ago. We decided about six months ago that we wanted to try for our first child, and the Gods were good to us.”   
“That’s…that’s so wonderful. You are going to be an amazing mother.”  
“I hope so,” she said chewing on her lip. 

 

“Why the doubt little bird?” he asked gently.  
“I still have such awful nightmares sometimes and while it’s a lot better than it used to be, they still leave me feeling shaky and unstable. I don’t know if they will ever truly stop.”  
Sandor sighed loudly.  
“Perhaps not, but maybe in time your sweet dreams will vastly outnumber the bad ones and you will find some measure of peace in that,” he suggested.   
“I hope so. But it’s not just about the dreams, Sandor: I have such confused feelings. I hate Petyr for what he did to me and to you and to my family, but part of me still thinks back to some of the good times we had together. I know none of it was real and it was all part of his manipulation of me. I haven’t forgotten for a minute how terrible the things were that he did and how many lives he destroyed, but Gods help me, sometimes I still find myself missing him. I don’t want to, but I can’t help it.”  
Sandor did not reply, just looked at her sadly and with a slight frown. 

 

“And I feel awful about what I did to him,” she continued. “In reality, I only took everything from him the same way he took everything from me. But not a day goes by when I don’t see his eyes – the hopeless, sad way he looked at me and his last words of love as he lay bleeding to death in front of me. I know his love for me was toxic and sick but he was in so much pain, emotionally and physically. That was not a manipulation; that was real and raw and human and it tears me apart every time I think about it.”  
“You don’t believe he deserved such a punishment?” Sandor asked gently.  
“He had to pay for what he did, but like that? And was it my place to be his judge and executioner? There had to be some other way. I would give anything to take it back. And yet, I hate him still. I still hate him so much for what he did. Gods, I’m still so fucked up.”  
Sandor stared at her with wide eyes.  
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear before,” he commented.  
“Sorry. Comes from being around Davos too much.”

 

“Sansa, what you are feeling is completely understandable. That man for better or worse was your only source of comfort and support for years. Then in the blink of an eye he’s gone. It’s natural that you’re going to have some unresolved issues over what happened and how it happened regardless of what he did to you. It will get better with time. Believe it. You’ve already come so very far.”  
Sansa sighed and plucked at a blade of grass absently.  
“I know you’re right but it worries me. I don’t know if I’m completely ready to bring a baby into all of this, even though I know that everyone will support me. I know Marya and Davos will treat the child like their own and Renly, Loras and Robert can’t wait to be uncles. Oh, and then there’s the honorary uncle over in Dorne. I’m not certain but I think Oberyn might have actually cried over the phone when Stannis and I told him. Sure sounded like sniffling to me.”  
“How does your husband feel about it?”  
Sansa smiled fondly.  
“He’s so incredibly excited. You should have seen his face when I first told him. He was so happy and there was so much love in his eyes. It was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. He even smoked a cigar with his brothers and Davos when he found out. Stannis hates smoking and I’m pretty sure he coughed up a lung afterwards,” she giggled. 

 

“And Shireen is over the moon about having a little brother or sister on the way. The baby is due when she’ll be with us for the long school break – the timing couldn’t have been better. Little Stannis has already decided it’s going to be a boy,” she grinned.  
Then suddenly her face sobered.  
“But I can tell Stannis is a bit worried. He won’t say anything but I think he’s concerned about the effect that a newborn will have on me. He probably remembers what it was like with his ex-wife and I think part of him is scared history will repeat itself.”  
“You’re nothing like her. You are stronger than any person I ever met in my life. You stopped running. You faced your demons and you reclaimed your life. This has to be the luckiest kid on the planet, little bird, to have you as its mother. I am sure Stannis feels exactly the same way.

 

“That’s so sweet Sandor, thank you for saying that,” she smiled as she leaned against his arm and rested her head against his.   
He smoothed his fingers through her hair with one hand and sighed deeply.  
“When the baby is born I’m going to bring him or her to visit you. I want them to know who they’re going to be named after.”  
Sandor’s breath hitched and he was completely silent for a moment, his fingers stilling in her hair.  
“What if it’s a girl?” he mumbled, his voice rough with emotion. “Sandor’s not such a hot name for a girl.”  
“We’ll call her Sandy,” she explained.  
“What does your husband think about all of this?”  
“He’s totally on board with it. He was happy to let me decide the name and he’ll have his chance with the next baby.” 

 

“How many babies are you two planning on?” Sandor asked with a wide grin.  
“As many as the Gods see fit to bless us with. Don’t forget, I came from a very large family myself and Stannis absolutely adores children.”  
“He will make an excellent father, no doubt.”   
“You’re so right. Stannis is so very grateful to you for everything you did, you know. He wanted to come with me when I went to visit you at the cemetery but he thought I would like some time alone with you. He’s been such a help with the charity foundation and you know that the Special Burns Unit at Kings Landing General Hospital was his idea. It’s doing some amazing work in the community and he’s been instrumental in making it a success.”  
“Stannis is a good man and he’s good to you. That makes me very happy.”  
“He’s more wonderful to me than you could possibly know. I don’t know how I got so lucky.”  
“It wasn’t luck, it was fate. You simply got what you were always meant to have and what you deserved to have in your life, and so did he,” Sandor responded with a small smile. 

 

“Close your eyes now and sleep little bird,” he added gently.  
“Will I see you again, Sandor?”   
“I don’t think so. Not like this. You don’t need me anymore,” he replied a little sadly.   
“I might not need you to save me, but I’ll always need you as a friend.”  
“And that you will always have. I’ll always watch over you for the rest of your days until you dream your final dream; perhaps then we will find each other and you can sing me your song once again.”  
“I love you Sandor,” she whispered as she closed her eyes and began to drift off.  
“I love you too, little bird.”

 

Sansa woke up on the couch with a small smile still on her face. She sighed loudly and stretched out her limbs with a yawn and rubbed at the small bump of her belly. She had intended on just a brief nap but when she looked at the wall clock she was shocked to learn that she had slept soundly for most of the afternoon. That seemed to be happening more and more lately. Stannis would be home from the office at any minute and she must look like a frightful mess. She pulled herself from the couch and sauntered up the stairs to the master bedroom ensuite and faced the mirror. 

 

As she caught her reflection she gasped in wonder and her fingers reached towards her hair. There tied in a small bow around a lock of her hair was a length of pink ribbon as shiny and new as the day her friend had first given it to her. She smiled and gently fingered the ribbon as a single tear traced slowly down her cheek. 

 

FINIS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final curtain. Two months of daily updates and we’ve finally reached the end. Thank you to everybody who has stuck with this fic and for all the kudos, comments and bits of feedback that you’ve gifted me along the way. I’ve appreciated each and every one. 
> 
> I’ve had an absolute blast and I’m going to miss posting on this and interacting with you all so I have decided to try my hand at another Stansa fic, coming soon. It will be entitled “Two Stars Gazing”. It won’t have daily updates like this fic though. I don’t post until something is as good as I can get it so that was quite a bit of pressure to put myself under! 
> 
> Maybe we will meet again? In the meantime I’ll have a small rest from writing and some fun catching up on reading everyone else’s wonderful fics. You guys are the best!

**Author's Note:**

> The Explicit rating is for upcoming chapters. I will amend, add tags as I progress with this work. Comments/feedback gratefully received.


End file.
